


Decoy Dilemma

by dysonrules



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-21
Updated: 2011-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dysonrules/pseuds/dysonrules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Auror Potter and Counsellor Malfoy return to Hogwarts in order to protect their children from a man who has vowed revenge. Of course, it's quite a lot more complicated than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RurouniHime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RurouniHime/gifts).



Harry entered the office of the Minister for Magic and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy already there. The sight of him caused Harry's stomach to do a curious flip-flop, not surprisingly, since Malfoy's presence in his life generally acted as a harbinger of doom.

He pushed away the irrational idea and tried to smile at the Minister, ignoring Malfoy, as he had grown accustomed, unless etiquette or his job required otherwise.

"Minister," Harry greeted politely with a question in his voice.

Cho looked sombre, which did nothing to calm Harry's nerves. "I'm glad you're here, Harry. I have some news that might affect both you and Draco."

Harry glanced at Malfoy. He knew it was serious for Cho to use their given names. She always referred to them as 'Auror Potter' and 'Councillor Malfoy' while on Ministry premises.

"What is it?" Malfoy demanded.

"Alcott Nott has escaped."

Harry drew in a startled breath and shot another glance at Malfoy, whose face reflected Harry's astonishment for only a moment before its usual cold mask dropped back into place.

"How?" Malfoy asked.

"During his transport to Azkaban. There was a storm. We're still not sure if it was magically induced or if they simply took advantage of the bad weather. Regardless, we lost two Aurors in the attack."

"Who?" Harry asked numbly, feeling sick. _Nott. Fuck_.

"Blewitt and Montagne."

Harry winced. He hadn't liked Blewitt, but he knew the man had two children not much younger than Lily. And Montagne had been a fine Auror.

"Are there any leads?" Malfoy demanded, as if he were qualified to investigate. He was nothing more than a prosecutor for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, allegedly helping to put away the criminals that Harry and the other Aurors tracked down and brought before the Wizengamot. Still, it was a valid question.

"No. He took Blewitt's wand and Disapparated. We don't know—"

Cho was interrupted by the door banging open. "Minister Chang, I'm sorry to disturb you, but this just arrived by owl and I thought it might be important. It mentions Auror Potter and Councillor Malfoy."

Harry itched to snatch the message out of the Undersecretary's hand, but he waited until Cho read it and then handed it over to him. The message was short but chilling.

 **  
_Potter and Malfoy,_   
**

**  
_Prepare for an intimate acquaintance with anguish._   
**

It was unsigned. Harry gave it wordlessly to Malfoy, whose face paled more than Harry would have thought possible.

"We will, of course, assign—" Cho's voice was cut off by Malfoy's.

"He'll go after the children."

Harry stared at him, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Prepare for an acquaintance with _anguish_ , Potter. What has recently caused Nott to fell anguish?"

Harry's blood froze.

Malfoy nodded. "His son. He blames us, he wants revenge, and now he's free." Malfoy dropped the note onto Cho's desk, turned and headed for the door. "I'm taking Scorpius out of Hogwarts. I'll put in a leave request before I go, Minister. Good day."

Malfoy was out the door before Harry could stop him. He tried anyway, racing into the corridor and catching Malfoy's robe at the shoulder seam. He gripped it tightly and held on until Malfoy stopped and glared at him.

"Why? Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain."

Malfoy sneered. "If you believe that, you're stupider than I thought." Malfoy yanked the material free of Harry's hand and straightened his robes, obviously preparing to leave. Cho Chang halted him.

"Councillor Malfoy, Auror Potter, I need you to return to my office and sit down. I have an idea that might help us all."

xx*x*xx

"A team of Aurors has been sent to Hogwarts. I'd just… I'd feel better if Lily was with you," Harry said into the flames. Ginny's face twisted with concern, but not anger as Harry had feared.

"Albus should come, too."

Harry nodded. "I'll try to persuade him, but you know how he is." Albus could write a manual on headstrong behaviour. When he was ten years old, the family had vacationed in Ireland, which Albus had protested vehemently. While they were shopping in a crowded marketplace in Dublin, Albus had vanished. After hours of frantic searching, Harry had located him at home, safe, sound, and unrepentant.

Harry would rather keep Albus close than worry about him jaunting off in a fit of independent recklessness, even though he was now seventeen and relatively mature.

"Yes, I know how Albus is. We're in—"

"Don't tell me!" Harry said quickly. "It's better I don't know, in case… Well, just in case. I'll send you another Patronus if I need to reach you, otherwise, just Floo-call Hogwarts at 1800 hours and—"

"1800 hours, Harry?" she asked pointedly.

Harry flushed. He had forgotten how much she hated "that Ministry shit" which had included everything about his job by the time they had split up. "I mean 6 p.m.," he amended. "How is Neville?"

Her face lit up and he smiled in bemusement, acknowledging that it was still good to see her happy, despite everything. He still loved her, after all, just not in the way either of them needed. "Nev is great. He's found three new species since we've been here and he's so excited, you should see him." She coughed and added, "Well, I'll tell him you said hi."

"Thanks, Gin. Hopefully this will blow over quickly."

Ginny nodded. "Bye, Harry. I'll talk to you at _1800 hours_." She wrinkled her nose at him and broke the connection.

"She seemed to take that well," Malfoy commented from behind him and Harry whirled. He hadn't heard the git come in. He bit back a scathing comment about conversations meant to be private, but decided getting into a shouting match with Malfoy would not be beneficial, particularly if Cho's plan was to be put into effect.

"Yeah, she's great," Harry said instead. "How did…?" He trailed off, unable to remember the name of Malfoy's wife. It started with an A, he recalled. Aurora? Amelia?

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "It doesn't matter. Are you ready?"

Harry got to his feet and dusted off his knees before grabbing a handful of Floo-powder from the mantel. "Yeah, let's go." He tossed the powder into the flames, stepped into the embers and called, "Hogwarts!"

He tumbled out and nearly fell over before righting himself. He would never figure out the nuances of graceful Floo Network travel if he lived to be 150, unlike Malfoy, who stepped out as though entering through a regular door, damn him.

Minerva McGonagall stood behind her desk, looking as stern as ever, but her features softened when she saw Harry. "Good afternoon, Harry. Draco, it's nice to see you again, although I wish the circumstances were not so dire."

Harry nodded at her, but turned his attention to Albus, who stood next to Scorpius Malfoy. Albus looked as though someone had caught him setting fire to the Potions classroom. Harry's eyes narrowed and he wondered what his son had been up to that would warrant such a reaction. He supposed he would find out sooner or later.

Scorpius looked pale to the point of ashen. He actually swayed against Albus for a moment, and Albus caught the edge of his sleeve to steady him. The boys shared a look and Harry blinked at them in surprise before he remembered that they were friends and had been for years. Harry wasn't quite used to the fact.

In Slytherin green, Scorpius looked almost exactly like Draco at seventeen, except he was not quite so thin and pointy. Draco had been living under the stress of Voldemort and the war at the time, which had made him almost skeletal and decidedly unhealthy-looking. He certainly didn't look that way now, Harry noted, shooting a sidelong glance at Malfoy. He looked cool, collected, professional, and decidedly, well… _good_ , if Harry was honest.

Malfoy caught his gaze and his grey eyes narrowed. Harry looked away. Malfoy was still a git, of course, that part hadn't changed a bit.

"Why…?" Albus coughed and started again. "Why are we here, Dad? Has something happened?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Albus, I have some bad news that will affect you and… Scorpius."

Albus took a step closer to Scorpius as if to protect him and his chin rose defiantly. Harry stared at him in puzzlement.

"For pity's sake, Potter, don't scare them. Boys, a dangerous criminal has escaped and vowed revenge upon both of us. We… Potter and I… and the Minister, feel that Hogwarts may not be the safest place for you. Apologies, Headmistress."

McGonagall nodded. "Understandable, Mr Malfoy."

"Anyway," Harry said, "we've decided to send you and Scorpius to stay at Grimmauld Place until this is sorted. Unless you prefer to be with your mother, Albus? We're sending Lily to her and she is more than willing to have you along." He looked at McGonagall questioningly.

"Lily is gathering her things and will be here shortly," McGonagall said. "She is accompanied by Auror Thomas."

Harry nodded, relieved. Dean would take care of Lily.

"Wait, you want me _and Scorpius_ to go to Grimmauld Place? And do what?"

"Well, stay there, of course. We've put it under a Fidelius Charm and it's Unplottable, so you'll be safe as long as you _don't leave_." Cho had agreed to be the Secret Keeper. "It shouldn't be an extended stay, since the entire Auror Department is looking for the culprit."

Albus and Scorpius shared a look that seemed to express volumes of information, even though not a word passed between them. Albus turned back to Harry and a grin lit his features. Harry's son had gone from looking like a condemned prisoner to acting as if they had announced Christmas early. Harry's eyes narrowed. "Your homework will be sent along," Harry warned. "And any practical lessons will be taught by Hermione. She's agreed to look in on you, along with George."

Albus' gleeful expression did not change. It made Harry suspicious. Albus might have been Sorted into Ravenclaw, but he seemed extremely Slytherin at times, possibly helped along by his friendship with Scorpius Malfoy.

"Great!" Albus said. "Fab! That's excellent, isn't it, Scorpius?"

Thankfully, Scorpius looked less enthusiastic. "Won't they notice our absence? And what about Quidditch?"

Albus' face fell. "Oh god, Quidditch! I forgot!"

Scorpius threw him a disdainful look, as if forgetting about Quidditch was a punishable offense.

"You let us worry about that. Go pack your things. Well, _some_ of your things. And make sure your schoolmates don't notice you leaving. We're trying to keep this quiet."

Albus rolled his eyes. "They'll notice we're gone by morning."

Harry smiled. "No, they won't."

Scorpius gasped and Albus burst out, " _Polyjuice_? Oh no, you are not going to pretend to be me!" Twin stares of horror shifted from Harry to Draco and back again.

"In a manner of speaking," Harry said. He could not disclose the actual solution, but thankfully Polyjuice was not to be used. The Department of Mysteries had come up with a more permanent solution, which the Ministry had been keeping under wraps for years.

Scorpius leaned over and hissed something in Albus' ear. Albus flushed and then turned and grabbed Scorpius' arm. "Excuse us a moment," Albus said brightly and then dragged Scorpius across the room to a point as far from the others as possible. There the two boys engaged in a whispered conversation that involved Albus flailing his arms while Scorpius crossed his, looking very much like his father. Scorpius shook his head several times and Albus shot occasional worried glances in their direction, but he seemed to be trying to convince Scorpius to go along with the plan, so Harry left them alone.

"What do you suppose that is about?" Malfoy asked dryly.

Harry shrugged. "Scorpius seemed upset about missing Quidditch."

"He's the Slytherin Seeker. Of course he's upset."

"Albus is a Chaser, but he never took Quidditch quite as seriously as James."

Harry had already contacted James about the Nott situation. James had not been happy about leaving his job at George's shop until Harry had mentioned they were sending him to Romania to stay with Charlie and Teddy. Apparently the lure of working with dragons was great enough that James was willing to give up his job playing with potentially dangerous substances at Wheezes. At least for a time. And Harry trusted Charlie to protect him, even from someone as dangerous as Nott.

Lily thundered up the stairs and into the room only to launch herself at Harry. "Daddy!" she shrieked. Harry grinned and twirled her, even though he was getting far too old for such a thing and his back protested with a twinge he would feel later. Dean Thomas gave Harry the thumbs up, entering the room more sedately behind Harry's daughter.

Harry set her on her feet and she asked, "What's going on? Dean says I have to go stay with Mum. Where is she this time? I don't mind, of course, because Transfiguration is bollocks—"

Albus laughed, drawing Lily's attention.

"Lily," Harry warned.

She wrinkled her nose. "Sorry, Headmistress," she said without even looking at McGonagall. "Albus isn't coming, is he? And why is Scorpius here? Surely mum won't allow Albus to drag his—"

"Lily, why don't you shut it long enough for Dad to get in a bloody word edgewise? In fact, just _shut it_." Albus' words were sharp and the warning glare he gave his sister caused her to stick her tongue out at him.

Harry quickly explained the situation and she gave Albus a speculative look. "You are going to Grimmauld Place? With Scorpius?"

Albus nodded, still glaring daggers at her. To Harry's surprise, Lily burst out laughing. She muttered something about Albus being "bloody walking Felix Felicis" and then shook her head. "All right, then. When do I leave?"

Harry let out a breath. Lily was the unpredictable one of the bunch and he had been most worried about her reaction. He checked his watch. "About an hour. Do you have everything you need?"

Lily nodded and looked at Dean, who held a large pink knapsack. His expression was pained. "Yes, I told the only people who matter that I was going on an extended holiday, so they are all properly jealous and I will make mum buy loads of gifts that I can bring back for them. I hope she is not in some horrible, horrible place like that wretched jungle in Peru that she dragged us to that one time…"

Lily kept on and Harry's attention wandered back to Albus and Scorpius, who had finished their conversation. Harry could tell by the set of Albus' face that he had persuaded Scorpius, which was a relief. Harry wasn't sure what they would have done with Scorpius if he had refused to accompany Albus. Harry didn't feel that Malfoy Manor was safe at all, despite Ministry surveillance and a twenty minute argument with Malfoy regarding the same.

"All right," Harry said briskly. "Lily, you wait here for your mum. I'm going to get the boys settled at Grimmauld Place. Be safe." He gave her a heartfelt hug and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head, feeling a rush of fierce affection. If anything happened to any of his children… well, he would make what had happened to Voldemort seem delightful in comparison.

"Malfoy, you ready?"

Malfoy nodded and Harry gestured Albus over. Albus joined him, but then shot a worried look at Lily. "Hey, Lils, keep yourself out of trouble."

She gave him a surprised look and then smirked at him. "You, too. Don't do anything I wouldn't do in that dusty, nasty old place with those rickety beds. And furniture. And things."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Let's just go, Dad, okay? _Bye, Lils_."

Harry gave his daughter one last worried look, grasped Albus' arm, and took them both into the fireplace and off to Grimmauld Place.

xx*x*xx

Malfoy's nose had wrinkled immediately upon stepping into the parlour at Grimmauld Place and Harry inwardly cringed when he viewed the house through Malfoy's eyes. He had tried to maintain the place, but in truth he hated being in it and recollecting all of the unpleasant memories contained within the dark walls. As his last link to Sirius, however, he couldn't bear to be rid of it.

"It's… been awhile since we've used it for anything," Harry admitted. He occasionally volunteered it as a Ministry safe-house or temporary lodgings for out-of-town friends, but he had never undertaken the major overhaul he'd always tentatively planned for the house.

"Obviously," Malfoy said.

"Come on, Scorpius. Let's go pick out our rooms!" Albus said and bolted for the stairs. After a glance at his father, who nodded, Scorpius followed at a more sedate pace.

"Try not to touch anything!" Malfoy called after him. "Until it's been disinfected!"

Harry scowled, but Hermione walked out of the kitchen Levitating a silver tray full of ceramic mugs and a steaming pitcher. Malfoy greeted her with a polite nod. He and Hermione worked together frequently at the Ministry, as they were employed by the same department. Sometimes Hermione actually nagged Harry to "try and get along" with Malfoy, which he found bothersome.

"Harry, this place is so full of dust it's going to take me a week just to turn the living room back into a _living_ room and not a catch-all for dust bunnies. Hello, Draco. Hopefully we won't have to stay here that long. Did you get the boys' lessons from Professor McGonagall? We don't want them falling behind on their studies because of this nonsense."

"Yes, Hermione," Harry said, although he had no idea about their lesson plans. He supposed he should ask once he returned to Hogwarts. Trust Hermione to think of studying while Harry was preoccupied with the man who was trying to destroy their lives. Harry smiled at that; it was almost like old times.

"I'm glad you find this amusing, Potter," Malfoy said, sounding anything but as he picked up a mug of tea and sipped at it.

Harry sneered at him and picked up his own cup. Thank goodness the boys were in separate Houses or this plan of Cho's would never work. The fireplace flared and Cho Chang stepped out as if called by Harry's thought.

"All right, everything is in place at the Ministry," she said. "Ron Weasley is impersonating you, Harry, and Jack Martinson has taken your place, Draco. With any luck, Nott will strike at them, but we're highly doubtful that will happen. He seems bent on revenge, so hopefully this plan will lure him out." Her lips thinned and Harry knew she was questioning the wisdom of setting the trap at Hogwarts amongst so many children. Still, Harry knew it was their best chance.

"We'll be careful," he assured her.

She nodded grimly just as Albus and Scorpius bounded down the stairs. "Hey, Dad! Oh hi, Minister Chang! Want to tell us what this is all about?"

Harry shook his head. "Hermione will fill you in after we leave. We need to get back before you're missed. Now, remember, whatever you do, _stay in the house_."

Albus gave Scorpius an enigmatic look. "That won't be a problem. Are you really planning to impersonate us?"

"Yes, so you need to tell us everything you can about your friends, your classes, and anything else you think we should know."

"With diagrams for Potter," Malfoy added. Harry resisted flipping him an obscene salute, barely.

The boys sat down and began to speak, sometimes talking over each other. Albus actually drew diagrams, much to Malfoy's amusement.

"And in Charms no one ever sits next to Beau Beason," Albus said after over an hour of relentless information sharing.

"Not if they want to retain their sense of smell. We don't think he's bathed since birth."

"Best to be safe," Albus said and nodded.

"Time is of the essence, boys. That will have to do. Now, if you will please link hands with your fathers, we will begin," Cho said and lifted her wand. They all got to their feet.

Albus grinned and held out his hands. Harry took them and marvelled at how Albus had grown. They were nearly the same height and had almost identical green eyes and unruly black hair. Albus' mischievous grin, however, was pure Ginny. Harry couldn't help but smile back. Bloody hell, the last few disintegrating years of their marriage had been difficult, but Harry wouldn't have given up a moment of it, because he had three amazing children as a result.

Next to them, Scorpius linked hands with Malfoy. Cho began to cast the complex spell over Harry and Albus. The boy watched with fascination and seemed to be trying to memorize her words. Harry wondered if he would have to Obliviate Albus afterward to keep him from attempting the spell on his own.

Harry shut his eyes and let the magic wash over him. Unspeakables had tried the spell on him several times in the past. It was experimental and had not previously worked, but Cho seemed to believe there had been a breakthrough. The air thickened and seemed to crackle around them. Harry's skin felt prickly and hot, but he knew it would pass. Everything turned eerily blue for a moment and then faded back to normal.

"It didn't work," said Albus.

"Oh my god," Hermione cried. "How could you have kept this spell a secret?"

"It's still in development," Cho replied, giving her a stare. "And do you think it should be common knowledge even if it works perfectly?"

Hermione swallowed, still looking from Harry to Albus and back again. Albus looked confused. "From my viewpoint, it works perfectly," Hermione said.

"But nothing happened," Albus protested.

"Yes, it did," Scorpius whispered. "Your father… is _you_."

Albus let go of Harry's hands and then looked at Cho. "Let's see it again, then."

She lifted her wand and Harry said, "Those bound by the spell cannot see its effects. But to outside parties, the changes are evident."

Cho cast again and as Harry watched, Draco Malfoy slowly morphed into his son. Albus gasped.

"Amazing," Hermione whispered. "How long does it last?"

"Until cancelled by the caster," Cho replied. "Or until my death, of course. A simple _Finite Incantatum_ will not disrupt it. We worked hard on that. Unfortunately, we have only been able to make it work with direct family members. We believe the magical signatures have a connection through the bloodline, parent to child."

"What do you call it?"

"The Changeling Charm." Cho tapped her wand against her thigh while Harry looked from one of them to the other. "One more thing." She pulled two silvery objects from a pocket and handed one to Harry and one to Malfoy. Harry looked at it curiously—it was a bracelet fashioned of silver links with a blank expanse that seemed to await engraving.

Harry put his on without being asked and Malfoy did the same after a moment of hesitation.

"Now link hands," Cho ordered.

Harry held up his hands with a challenging stare at Malfoy, who glared back and then threaded his fingers through Harry's. Harry fought off a blush and swore at himself for behaving like an idiot. It was Malfoy, for fuck's sake, and they were not _holding hands_ , they were performing a job.

Cho cast another spell that Harry recognized from prior uses. Malfoy's image wavered and then the Scorpius persona seemed to break and fall away, leaving adult Malfoy looking as he always did.

"You already treat one another like children," Cho said primly. "No need for you to see each other that way, also. Don't take the bracelets off, since they allow you to see through the spells on one another."

Harry shrugged and quickly released Malfoy's hands. He admitted it might have been strange trying to work—undercover, no less—with Draco Malfoy looking like Scorpius.

"We should get going," Harry said. He gave Albus one last stern look. "I'm sure you already know the rules."

Albus grinned lazily. "Don't leave the house. Don't give Aunt Hermione a hard time or she has permission to hex me into a potato. Don't blow anything up. No Quidditch in the house. No loud parties."

"Or quiet parties," Harry added. "No parties at all."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Fine." A smile played about his lips and Harry could not shake the feeling that the joke was on him, especially when Albus added, "Have fun at Hogwarts. Don't do anything Scorpius and I wouldn't do."

Scorpius nudged him with an elbow hard enough to force an _oof_ , but Albus only laughed.

"Thank you, Albus. I'm sure we won't. Malfoy?"

Malfoy nodded. "We'll keep in touch. Let us know the—"

"Instant we hear anything at all about Nott. I will," Cho finished.

"Take care of them, Hermione," Harry added.

"Of course, Harry. Don't worry."

Then he and Malfoy stepped into the fireplace and went back to Hogwarts.

~TBC~


	2. Chapter 2

Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for them. She looked at them curiously, as if trying to determine their true identities. Harry said, "Hermione asked about us having the boys' homework sent along."

McGonagall got to her feet and walked forward to look at them critically. "How am I to know it's you, Mr Potter, and not your son playing a trick?"

It took Harry a moment to realize she saw him as Albus. "Ask me a question only I would know the answer to."

She pondered for a moment. "Do you remember when Delores Umbridge disparaged your marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

Harry grinned at the memory. "You told her I had achieved high marks in all Defence Against the Dark Arts tests set by a _competent_ teacher."

"I suppose that will do. Can you find your way to your respective dorms or do you need an escort?"

"I know the way, Headmistress," Malfoy said dryly. "Potter, try to remember you're in Ravenclaw. And good luck getting in."

"Ha bloody ha," Harry said as Malfoy walked to the stone staircase and descended.

"Mr Potter, see that you don't disrupt my school. And be very careful with my students. I do not appreciate Hogwarts being used as a trap in which to catch criminals."

"Nott would have come here, anyway, Professor," Harry said. "He wants revenge. There is no telling what he would do if he came here and found Albus and Scorpius missing. It's possible he might have taken other students as hostages. This way, he may think he has succeeded." _If he takes the bait_ , Harry added to himself.

"Why are you so certain he will come here?" she asked.

Harry sat down and sighed. "Because of Theo. Do you know the story?"

"Only what was in the Daily Prophet," she replied and frowned as if to cast doubt on the veracity of the information therein. Harry nearly smiled. His antagonistic relationship with the paper had not diminished over the years.

"It was a routine raid," Harry explained. "We found out Nott, the elder, was smuggling potion ingredients and manufacturing illegal potions, mostly hallucinogens and narcotics. A few libido enhancers and inhibition traps. Theo was distributing the potions at his London club. We went in to close them down, but Alcott wouldn't go quietly. The Aurors fought. It was a vicious battle. Nott and his people all knew capture meant Azkaban."

"And Theo was killed," McGonagall said quietly.

Harry nodded with a twinge of guilt. Theo was one of the few Slytherins Harry had not hated at school. Theo had seldom made his life difficult, unlike Malfoy and his cronies.

"It was an accident. I sent a Stunner Theo's way, but he dodged and the spell hit a cabinet behind him. A heavy cauldron was knocked loose—it fell from the top of the cabinet and hit Theo on the head." Harry swallowed and shut his eyes at the memory. "None of us noticed how hard it had hit him. I saw him go down and thought he was simply unconscious, out of the fight. Spells were still flying and I turned back to the battle. By the time we got the others subdued it was too late. The blow had cracked Theo's skull and he… bled to death."

Harry pushed his fingers against his temples, rubbing at a headache there. "I should have noticed," he said. "I should have checked."

McGonagall shook her head. "It is very difficult to pay attention in the heat of battle, Harry. It was an accident."

"Alcott Nott didn't see it that way. He went completely mad with grief and vowed revenge. The usual." Harry tried to smile and failed.

"And Draco? He is no Auror."

Harry snorted. "Malfoy? No, he is the Chief Prosecutor for the Ministry. You didn't know? He became a litigator after the war and worked hard to put away former Death Eaters, assisted by his parents. Very anti-Voldemort, those Malfoys." Harry's tone was bitter. Despite all the criminals rotting in prison because of Malfoy, Harry still thought it was nothing but a façade. The Malfoys did whatever they could to wheedle themselves back into the good graces of society.

"You don't think Draco is sincere in his career choice?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "People have short memories if you throw enough Galleons at them. I don't think Malfoy has been sincere about anything in his entire life." As soon as he said the words, Harry saw an image of Malfoy weeping in a bathroom, just before he bled red from Harry's spell. And later still, white-faced and terrified as a helpless teacher dangled above his dining room table, awaiting her own murder. Harry winced inwardly.

McGonagall's lips thinned, as though she had witnessed his thoughts and disapproved of his words. "How does Draco fit into the Nott situation?"

"During the trial, Nott accused me of murdering his son. Malfoy was the prosecutor on the case and I defended myself. Since I'm not in Azkaban, Nott decided that Malfoy wasn't doing his job; that he refused to put 'the Great Harry Potter' in prison." Harry's words were bitter and he still heard them ringing in the courtroom, shouted by an enraged Nott. Harry sometimes wondered if the words were true. Had Malfoy done his best or had he cultivated popular favour by clearing Harry's name? "Nott vowed revenge on us both."

"And then he escaped."

Harry nodded and got to his feet. "I suppose I had better go meet Albus' friends and try to fit in."

"Good luck, Harry," she said with a smile. "By the way, are you aware of…?" She trailed off.

"Aware of?"

She shook her head and smiled again. "Never mind. Good night, _Albus_."

Harry grinned, bid her a good evening, and headed for Ravenclaw Tower.

xx*x*xx

Harry stood before the blank door at the top of the spiral staircase, frowning at the eagle-shaped door knocker. He had assumed he would be intelligent enough to answer the riddle and enter, but he had forgotten how much he hated riddles.

 _No sooner spoken than broken._

"Albus, why are you lurking out here?" someone asked. "Did they change the question?"

Harry looked down the stairs to see Rose Weasley approaching, looking so much like a carbon copy of Hermione that Harry's heart ached. He had seen her over the summer, of course, and frequently, but seeing her in school robes within the walls of Hogwarts was quite different. A wave of nostalgia swept over him.

"Hi, Rose!" he said happily.

Her frown deepened. "What did you call me?"

Harry winced. He had forgotten the horrible nickname bestowed up her by his own children. They never called her anything else. He gave an Albus-like chuckle. "Only kidding, Bludge." It sounded strange on his lips. "I was just looking for…" He patted his robes and tried to think of something.

"You're acting weird. Have you been Confunded?"

Harry jumped on the excuse gratefully. "No. Maybe. Have I?"

"Bloody hell," she snapped and Harry gaped at her use of profanity. Rose had always seemed so sweet, despite the nickname. "Can't you idiot boys ever stop with the ridiculous hexes? Was it Hugo this time, or Louis?"

"Don't remember," Harry mumbled.

She shook her head with a put-upon sigh reminiscent of Hermione and answered the riddle— _silence_ , of course—and took Harry's hand to lead him into Ravenclaw Tower. He hadn't been inside the common room since their search for the tiara Horcrux—he resolutely shook off that memory and asked, "Um… where is my room?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Should I cast a _Finite_?"

Harry shook his head. "I think I'll be fine. Just having a bit of trouble remembering."

"You didn't forget Scorpius, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"He's usually attached to your arm, so I was wondering. You didn't have a fight, did you?"

Harry shook his head. He had known Albus and Scorpius were friends, but he hadn't realized they were that close.

"All right, come on." She dragged him up stairs that resembled the ones in Gryffindor Tower and halted after a brief climb. "There you are. I have Charms homework, so I'll leave you to your recovery, but you can bet I'll be having a talk with my brother and our lovely cousin, so help me." With that, Rose marched away.

Harry grinned and pushed the door open. A boy with dreadlocks tied up in a bright blue scarf looked up from the huge book open on his bed.

"Albus?" he asked, sounding confused. "What are you doing here?"

Harry frowned, wondering if Rose had directed him to the wrong room after all, but then he spotted the gigantic poster on the wall above one of the beds—definitely Albus'. The poster sported Tanner Kinkade, the willowy blond Seeker for the newly-formed Brighton Banshees Quidditch team, holding his broom and waving at an adoring crowd of fans. With his silver-trimmed purple robes billowing in the breeze, Harry thought Kinkade looked a bit like Malfoy, although he'd never noticed before.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he seated himself on Albus' bed.

"Did you have a fight with Scorpius?" the boy asked.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Harry muttered and took off his boots. It was too early to sleep, so he planned to familiarize himself with Albus' schedule and then double-check to see if Albus had any homework due the next day. Also, he needed to look at the Marauder's Map and make sure Nott wasn't already on the premises.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't tell me." He went back to his reading. Harry tossed his shoes on the floor and then transformed them with a quick wordless spell, remembering that once out of the influence of the Changeling Charm they would appear as his Auror boots rather than the trainers Albus normally wore.

Harry settled back onto the pillows and pulled out the scroll Albus had given him. It detailed pertinent information, such as the names of his roommates. Harry glanced at the boy, who could only be Jeremiah Abrams. They called him Jem. He memorized the names of the other dorm occupants, in case they appeared later, and then drew the blue curtains on the bed. He cast a Silencing Charm, and pulled out the Map, which he found stuffed in a secret compartment of the headboard, just as Albus had instructed.

Harry had originally given the map to Teddy, who had passed it to James, who had bequeathed it to Albus on his departure from Hogwarts. Albus also had the invisibility cloak, which had caused Harry to give him a severe look, since he had apparently nicked it from Harry's closet at home without his knowledge.

Harry's eyes scanned the map and instantly sought out the Slytherin dungeon, where he spotted the name _Draco Malfoy_ in the common room, amid several unrecognized names. He watched for a moment, but none of the names moved, so he assumed Malfoy was fine where he was. A detailed search located no _Alcott_ _Nott_ , so he put the Map away.

Harry pulled a small pouch out of his robe peered inside. He had magically enlarged it using Hermione's spell, and filled it with clothing and other items he might need. After retrieving his pyjamas, he took off his Auror robes, folded them carefully, and stuffed them into the pouch. Keeping personal items hidden while Polyjuiced was always a challenge, and it was just as important with the Changeling Charm. Anyone seeing Auror robes in Albus' quarters would be sure to ask questions, and that included the house-elves.

Harry dragged the blankets back, cancelled the Silencing Charm, and fell asleep in Albus' bed after one last thought for his children's safety.

xx*x*xx

Harry was on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast when he encountered Draco Malfoy, or rather, Draco Malfoy encountered him. One moment Harry was walking, the next he was slammed up against a wall and held in place with an arm across his chest. Harry was reluctantly impressed; he knew he could escape Malfoy's hold easily, but he was much stronger than Harry would have guessed.

"We need to talk, Potter," Malfoy growled.

"Nice to see you, too, Malfoy," Harry replied.

Malfoy leaned closer to him and spoke low enough that only Harry could hear. "Something is going on with our sons. Every single child in the Slytherin common room asked me about Albus, as if they are never parted from one another. Does that sound like normal behaviour to you?"

Harry glanced at a group of students who were eyeing them and whispering at the end of the hall. "They kept asking me if we were fighting. I think Albus and Scorpius are a lot closer than we suspected. Not just friends, but _best friends_."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. Harry found it slightly difficult to breathe through the pressure of Malfoy's arm. He wondered if he should mention it. "Best friends," Malfoy muttered. "Why would Scorpius keep that a secret? He's never even asked if Albus could come to the Manor."

Harry made a scoffing sound. "Do you blame him? You insult me fifty times a day, and that's at the Ministry! I can only imagine what you sound like at home."

Malfoy's arm fell away and he stepped back, glaring. "As of today, our sons are no longer _best friends_." He turned and started down the corridor.

"What? Wait!" Harry hurried after him and grabbed his arm. "You can't do that! He's your son!" Harry's words were hissed, but frantic. Albus would be crushed if Malfoy tried to keep him away from Scorpius. Judging by the bizarre looks Harry had received in Ravenclaw Tower that morning, Albus and Scorpius spent far more time together than seemed rational.

Malfoy glared at him. "I don't mean forever, Potter. Just while we are impersonating them. I don't intend to spend any more time with you than necessary."

Harry held more tightly as Malfoy tried to leave again. "All right, then what did we fight about that caused this sudden rift?"

Malfoy sighed explosively. "Your deplorable fashion sense?"

"Try to remember you're supposed to be talking about Albus and not me," Harry growled.

"Well, I don't know. What do boys fight about?"

Harry thought back to the times he had fought with Ron. The Triwizard Tournament. Yeah, not likely. Still… "Jealousy? Is Scorpius very good at something?"

"Transfiguration."

Harry nearly sagged in relief. "Great! Albus is pants at that. I suggest that you, being a Malfoy prat, insulted Albus' Transfiguration skill, and Albus retaliated by…"

"Being a complete arse?" Malfoy suggested, raising a blond brow.

Harry sneered. "You know, you really haven't changed much since we were last here."

"Speak for yourself, Potter," Malfoy snapped. With that, he yanked his arm free and stalked down the corridor.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," a familiar voice said behind Harry. He turned to see Louis Weasley shaking his head sadly. Harry smiled broadly. He didn't see Bill's children as often as he would like, and Louis was always charming. His robes were a surprise; Harry always forgot the boy had been Sorted into Slytherin.

"Hi, Louis!" Harry said.

Louis gave him a puzzled stare. "You can sound that cheerful when you're fighting with Scorpius? Have you been hexed?"

Harry resisted the urge to ruffle the boy's blond hair. He had always found Louis to be adorable, with his blond hair and scattering of freckles. All of Bill and Fleur's children looked more like Fleur than Bill, but Louis had just a hint of strawberry in his hair and his eyes were brown. He wore his hair long and pulled back into a ponytail, like his father.

"Mal— _Scorpius_ is just being a prat. He'll get over it," Harry said confidently. "Are you going to breakfast?"

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for Hugo. If you see Dominique, tell her I'm dead."

The statement threw Harry for only a moment. His own children often issued such bizarre statements to one another; the rest of them took it in stride. "Will do," he said and raised a hand the way he'd seen Albus do a dozen times. He made a snapping motion with his fingers, botching it only slightly, and said, "Later, coz."

Louis gave him an absent nod, already scanning the hallway, probably looking for Hugo. Harry smiled as he headed for the Great Hall. It was lovely that so many of his family members got on so well together.

Breakfast was brilliant. Harry had to admit to a nostalgic longing for Hogwarts' meals. He gorged himself on bacon, toast, beans, bangers, and potatoes fried to crisp perfection.

"You seem awfully cheerful today, Albus," Rose said and gave him a stare that he recognized as a mimic of Hermione's disapproving look.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Harry asked around a mouthful of toast.

"Because of Scorpius! You can't be happy about this! What's wrong with you?"

Her words caused him to look over at Malfoy, who sat at the Slytherin table looking baleful and poking at his food. "What? He looks miserable enough for both of us. Why should I be upset?"

"Albus Severus Potter!" Her tone was outraged. "When did you become so heartless? He _lives_ for you and you know it!"

For some reason, her words made Harry feel guilty and he looked at Malfoy again. Was it true? Was Scorpius really that close to Albus? Harry frowned, studying Malfoy's handsome face. What would it be like, to have such devotion from Draco Malfoy?

Malfoy seemed to feel his gaze, and raised his head to meet his eyes. Harry tried a tentative smile, and Malfoy blinked with a surprised jerk. A sneer curled his lip a moment later and Harry nearly laughed aloud. Friendship with Malfoy was too ridiculous to even contemplate.

"Are you going to make up with him?" Rose asked.

Harry shook his head. "Surely not. That's his job. I'm off to class! Bye, Bludger!" Harry got to his feet and headed for the Potions classroom, curious to know who had taken over the job of Potions Master. On the way, he ducked into an alcove and consulted the Map. Still no sign of Nott.

Harry walked into Potions utterly unprepared for what was to come.

xx*x*xx

"Don't chop against the grain, you idiot!" Malfoy hissed. "Cut _with_ the grain!"

Harry clenched his jaw and debated stabbing the glass-bladed knife into Malfoy's shoulder. That might silence the prat for a minute. Granted, Harry was crap at Potions, but did Malfoy have to make it so bloody difficult? "I hate being your partner."

"The feeling is mutual, Potter, but if you fuck this up and earn Scorpius a lower mark, I will personally take it out of your hide."

Harry stabbed the knife into the stem, pretending it was one of Malfoy's fingers.

"Now, class," said Professor Kinder as she held up the root for them all to see. "This is what your banalroot should look like. Does everyone see this? Everyone?" Her nasal tone and slight French accent was disarming and Harry found himself staring at her in bemusement each time she spoke. Her method of teaching was more akin to a Muggle cooking class than the "learn on your own" system employed by Snape during Harry's school years.

"Give me that," Malfoy growled and wrapped his hand around Harry's to wrestle the knife away. Harry refused to let go, however, and they had a minor tug-of-war with the glass dagger.

"Let go," Harry said.

"You are doing it wrong," Malfoy snapped.

"Everything I do is wrong, according to you!"

Unfortunately, Harry's hissed comment came during a lull in class conversation and he became aware of the sudden silence.

"Way to go, Potter," Malfoy said and took the knife.

"Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy," said Professor Kinder. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "No problem, Professor."

"Arse kisser," Malfoy muttered.

"Sorry to take _your_ job," Harry countered in a low tone.

"Fuck you."

"Not your job, either," Harry replied smugly.

Malfoy's glare could have melted the cauldron.

"When you have added the banalroot, be sure to stir six times only and then bring me a sample. I expect that you will all have done well." Professor Kinder held up a brilliant white liquid in a vial and Harry looked dubiously at their cream-coloured mixture.

"I hate you, Potter," Malfoy growled and spelled some of the not-quite-white potion into a vial. He shoved it at Harry, who took it and walked to the front of the class to hand it over to the professor.

He hoped to hell Nott showed up soon, otherwise he might kill Draco Malfoy.

xx*x*xx

"This is terrible. I've never seen you two fight like this. I thought you might actually hurt one another in Potions."

"Well, he was acting like a bloody git," Harry replied.

Rose gasped. "Albus!"

Harry sighed, realizing he didn't want to jeopardize Albus' relationships at school, even if he didn't understand his odd friendship with Scorpius Malfoy. "All right," he muttered. "I'll try and get along with him."

"You'll _try and get along_ with him? Albus, you _love_ him."

Harry looked at her sharply. He was about to protest that although he might like Scorpius quite a lot, he certainly didn't love him, but Hugo pounded into the room suddenly and dove behind Rose.

"Bloody hell, Sis, you have to hide me! Albus, do you have that cloak handy?"

Harry shook his head. He certainly didn't plan to carry the invisibility cloak everywhere he went, although he had gone through Albus' trunk to verify it was there.

"Hugo!" Rose cried in an admonishing tone. "Aren't you supposed to be in Muggle Studies?"

"I was on my way!" Hugo burst out. "Dammit, I really need to work harder on my Animagus form!"

"I am not hearing this, Hugo," Rose said. "I told you before, if you plan to become an Animagus, you need to apply to the Ministry for a license."

" _Weasley_!" someone bellowed.

Rose gasped. "Flint? You did something to _Morgan Flint_? Are you crazy?"

"It was random!" Hugo cried. "I didn't know _he_ would trip the spell! Albus, if you save me, I'll give you every sweet my dad sends me for the rest of the school year."

A tall, beetle-browed boy in Slytherin robes entered the room, eyes glowing with rage and fists clenched. His brown hair was sticking out at all angles, looking as though he had stuck a finger into a Muggle light socket.

"You're dead, Weasley!"

Harry got to his feet, glancing at Professor Binns, who had already started his lesson on Gifford Ollerton, giant-slayer. The history lesson might have been interesting in the hands of anyone but Binns, who droned on monotonously and ignored the altercation completely.

"Out of my way, Potter," Flint growled.

"Now, Morgan," Harry said in his best calming Auror tone, hoping he remembered the name right. Morgan Flint resembled a Neanderthal even more than his father, Marcus. "Hugo didn't mean to um… prank you. It was an accident."

"It wasn't meant for you, Morgan," Hugo said quickly. "It went off too soon, really."

"Fine, if you won't move, I'll just hex you both," Flint said and drew his wand.

Harry's _Expelliarmus_ was uttered before Flint's wand cleared his robes—the wand sailed across the room, smacked into the tapestry on the wall and fell to the floor. Flint roared in rage and charged forward, but Harry leaped aside and cast a simple Trip Jinx. Flint went down hard.

"You bastard, Potter!" he growled and shoved himself to his feet before a second Trip Jinx sent him to the floor again.

"You should stop, Flint. I can do this all day."

It took three more spells before Flint finally gave up with a snarl. He retrieved his wand and pointed it angrily at Harry, who held his own at the ready.

"This isn't over, Potter. Watch your back, Weasley." With that, Morgan Flint stalked out, followed by two younger Slytherin students who had watched the drama without intervening.

Hugo threw himself into a seat with an exaggerated sigh. "Fuck, I thought I was dead. Thanks, Albus. Nice hexes, by the way."

"Yes, Albus, that was impressive," Rose added, looking a bit suspicious.

"What did you do to him, anyway?" Harry asked.

Hugo straightened his Gryffindor tie and winked. "Lightning Liquorice. It was meant for Bonnie Bradfield, but Flint shoved her aside and snatched it first. Serves him right."

Rose made a noise of disgust. "Honestly, Hugo, sending voltage through a girl is not the proper way to ask her out. Have you thought of flowers?"

Hugo tsked at her. "Bonnie isn't like other girls. She has giant blood, so the liquorice wouldn't have hurt her. And she would have thought it was dead funny." Hugo got to his feet and patted at his red curls. "Actually, she laughed pretty hard when Flint lit up like a Christmas tree. I think I'll go find her and accept my congratulations. Make my excuses to Binns if he should happen to notice my absence." Hugo nodded towards Professor Binns, who hadn't noticed the confrontation with Flint, so the absence of one student would hardly be remarked upon.

"I'm not helping you with your exams!" Rose threatened as Hugo trotted out. Her note-taking had faltered, but once Hugo left she continued to scratch madly on the parchment with her quill.

Harry shook his head and jotted down a few notes for Albus' sake, even though with Hermione tutoring him he would likely learn more about Gifford Ollerton than he would ever need to know.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry checked the Map frequently throughout the day, searching for any sign of Alcott Nott. Uncertainty ate at him. Had they been wrong? Would Nott go after Ginny, instead? Would he travel to Romania and seek out James?

Harry sighed heavily and absently cast an Impervius Charm over a stack of parchment and then caused water to gush from his wand over it. The liquid ran off in rivulets and Harry lifted the dry paper to shake off the remaining droplets.

"Excellent work, Mr Potter!" Professor Flitwick looked exactly the same as he had twenty five years earlier, except that his sparse hair was completely white and seemed to have been spelled-on in places.

"So impressive it's practically heroic," Malfoy drawled from his position nearby. Harry glared at him.

Rose threw him a stare and leaned close to Harry. "Whatever has got you two so angry with each other, I suggest you sort it."

"I'm not angry!" Harry protested.

"That's even worse! You're acting like you don't even care! This is terrible." She seemed almost on the verge of tears.

Harry stared at her in alarm. "It's okay, Rosie."

Her face twisted in horror. "Who are you and what have you done with Albus Potter? No one calls me _that_ except my father and Uncle Harry."

Harry backpedalled. "Sorry, Bludger." He gave her an Albus-like smirk that seemed to placate her.

"And no trying to change the subject. You two are behaving all wrong. What happened between you?"

"Um… fight?" Harry said, recalling his agreement with Malfoy. "He insulted me."

"Scorpius?" she asked. Her voice was flat with disbelief. "Scorpius insulted you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, and it was um… really nasty. And mean."

"Scorpius insulted you and you didn't take him immediately to the hospital wing? I think someone might have hexed you both. Did you two drink anything unusual yesterday? Eat anything out of the ordinary?"

"Miss Weasley!" Professor Flitwick called sharply. "I do not recall the Impervius Charm requiring quite so many syllables."

Rose looked abashed. "Sorry, Professor." She turned and lifted her wand, but gave Harry a look to let him know the conversation was not over. Harry made a vow to stay away from her and her Ravenclaw mind in the future. If anyone saw through the Changeling Charm, it would be Hermione's daughter.

Harry saw Malfoy watching him and gave him an absent two-fingered salute. Malfoy pulled a face in return. It occurred to Harry that they had reverted a bit too easily to childish behaviour.

After Charms, he hurried back to Ravenclaw Tower, hoping to take a long look at the Map, not only to check for Nott, but also to seek out the locations of the Aurors sent to decoy Nott into thinking they were there for the protection of Albus and Scorpius.

To Harry's annoyance, the riddle had changed.

 _When you are full, you want to eat it. In complete darkness you can see it with your naked eyes. If you are a pauper, you own it. What is it?_

"Bloody hell," he swore. He tried to suss out the riddle for himself, thinking it couldn't be that difficult if schoolchildren could figure it out, but everything he tried only made the knocker squawk, "Incorrect!" It didn't help that his first attempt had been pornographic, but thankfully wrong.

He waited, but no other Ravenclaw children appeared to help him out of his predicament. There was no help for it; he would have to go and find some assistance. He hurried down the stairs, hoping to find Rose or someone else wearing blue. He spotted a severe-looking boy wearing Ravenclaw colours, but after taking two steps towards him, Harry stopped. Would it be out of character for Albus to ask for password assistance? And what if Albus didn't like the boy?

The Ravenclaw gave him a wary look, so Harry turned away and continued down the stairs. Partway down the next flight, he had an epiphany. Malfoy would know the answer. Even though the prat would be unbearably smug about Harry needing his help, at least Harry would be able to enter the damn Tower.

He was on the third floor landing when he heard, "Potter!" shouted from below. He looked over the railing to see Malfoy taking the steps two at a time. Malfoy's glare pierced him and Harry realized he was angry. Really angry.

Malfoy reached him, wrapped both fists in the front of Harry's robe and slammed him against the wall, nearly causing him to lose his footing on the step. "Malfoy, _what_ —?"

Several students paused, alerted by the movement.

" _We need to talk_ ," Malfoy said through clenched teeth. Harry swallowed, slightly alarmed despite the fact that he was a trained Auror who had destroyed the most evil wizard of all time. There was something unsettling about Malfoy's rage, so much so that Harry choked off his comment regarding Malfoy's new habit of shoving him into walls.

"Okay," Harry said breathily.

"Not here." Malfoy released him and Harry nearly stumbled again when the pressure of Malfoy's fists eased. "McGonagall's office."

Harry's brows went up in surprise. It was serious, then. "Have you seen—?"

"Not. Here," Malfoy snapped and then started up the stairs. Harry sighed and followed, quickly forced to run or risk Malfoy leaving him behind. He wondered if Malfoy had seen Nott, or had some information about him. On the way, they passed an Auror who lurked near a suit of armour, looking ridiculously conspicuous. He didn't as much as glance at Harry and Malfoy as they passed—none of the Aurors assigned to Hogwarts were aware of their duplicity.

McGonagall had given them the password to her office, in case they had an emergency and needed to use the Floo. Malfoy raced up the steps and stood in the centre of the room, chest heaving with exertion. McGonagall was not present. Harry leaned against her desk, panting.

"All of you!" Malfoy yelled and swept out an arm to indicate the Headmaster paintings. "Clear out!" Harry noted that Dumbledore was already absent—perhaps he was off visiting with Aberforth. Snape was missing, as well. Perhaps there was a gathering place for portraits? Harry thought he might ask Dumbledore when he returned.

"Well, I never!" snapped Phineas Black. "You are very cheeky, Mr Malfoy."

" _Out_ ," Malfoy yelled, "or I will incinerate your frames. I've wanted to do it to some of you for quite some time."

Several of them muttered amongst themselves, but when Malfoy singed the frame of Quentin Trimble, the paintings emptied rapidly. Even Phineas departed after giving Malfoy a disapproving glare.

"What is this about, Malfoy?" Harry asked tiredly.

"Our sons, Potter. I discovered some interesting information about _our sons_."

Harry straightened. "What do you mean?"

"I found out why everyone is so very shocked about our recent 'falling out'."

"Which is?" Harry waited for the shoe to drop.

"Scorpius and Albus are _in a relationship_ , Potter. Not a 'best friends' relationship, but something far more serious."

Harry inhaled sharply, finally connecting the pieces.

Malfoy nodded, face grim. "I see you've figured it out."

"They are...?"

"Boyfriends, Potter. Apparently they are _in love_ and have been for quite some time."

Harry walked around the desk and collapsed into McGonagall's chair. _Boyfriends_. _In love_. "Wow. That explains so much."

"Is that all you have to say?"

Harry glared at him. "What do you want me to say?"

"Well, I don't know, Potter!" Malfoy began to march back and forth, waving his hands in agitation. "Surely you don't think this is _acceptable_?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times while he tried to find the right words to combat Malfoy's anger. Finally he settled on, "Whether or not we find it _acceptable_ doesn't make a jot of difference, except in the fact that neither of our sons has bothered to enlighten us about this."

"Are you surprised?"

"I'm not surprised Scorpius hasn't mentioned it, no, but I am a bit shocked that Albus hasn't seen fit to—"

"Why Scorpius?" Malfoy demanded, swinging towards Harry and halting his pacing.

"Well, probably because he knew your reaction would border on psychotic rage."

Varied emotions traced across Malfoy's face, finally settling on an expression Harry would describe as "offended superiority". Malfoy said, "You have no idea what my reaction would have been."

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, the wall slamming, racing up the stairs, and shouting hasn't been any indication at all."

"I would not have done that if Scorpius had told me himself!" Malfoy snapped.

"Of course not," Harry said derisively.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend to be a perfect parent, Potter. Your son clearly had issue with telling you, also."

"I never said I was a perfect parent!" Harry retorted. Still, it stung, knowing Albus had not trusted him enough to confide in him. And the others… Lily's cryptic words to Albus suddenly made sense. She obviously knew. Harry wondered if James did.

"Whatever, Potter. The question is _what are we going to do about it_?"

"What are we…?" _Oh god_. Harry had locked Albus up in Grimmauld Place with Scorpius. Alone, but for occasional visits from Hermione and George. He blanched.

"I see you've finally added all the ingredients, Potter," Malfoy said dryly. "Thank you for your brilliant suggestion of giving our sons free rein of your house for the duration."

"I didn't know they would be—" Harry put his head in his hands, mortified at the image of Albus and Scorpius… doing things.

"We need to put a stop to it," Malfoy said flatly.

Harry jerked his head up. "How do you propose we do that?" he demanded. "And do you honestly think either of them will listen to a bloody word we have to say? They are of age and can make their own decisions. And, frankly, I don't really see—"

Malfoy's laughter silenced him. Harry glared, wondering if Malfoy had finally gone round the twist. The blond waved a hand at him. "Never mind. I only said that to gauge your reaction. Dreadful habit I acquired during my career."

"Very amusing. Are you saying you're okay with this?"

"Of course I'm not okay with this, but I am not stupid enough to believe my opinion matters." He shook his head as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "Yes, yes, I know Scorpius is concerned about my opinion, obviously, or he would have mentioned his damned proclivities before now. But my influence has never swayed him, once he makes up his mind. He has always been strong-willed."

Surprisingly, Malfoy sounded proud instead of put-out. "His proclivities? Are you upset that he's gay?"

"Why would I be?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "The ranting, for one thing. And won't it upset some sort of pure-blood code? Throw a wrench into the whole 'begetting of heirs' thing?"

"I assume that's some idiotic Muggle phrase, but no, I don't care if Scorpius has children. He can always find some pureblood girl to bear his seed if he wants to continue the Malfoy line."

Harry was mortified, but the grin lurking about Malfoy's lips made him think twice—it was possible he was being baited again, the bastard. Harry would have to remember to analyse everything Malfoy said for double-meanings or possible traps.

"Then why are you so upset?" Harry asked.

"Because his choice of partner leaves much to be desired."

Harry got to his feet angrily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"He could have done better. Surely your son isn't the only shirtlifter in the entire school?"

"What's wrong with Albus?"

"You tell me," Malfoy countered.

Harry glared at him. "There is nothing wrong with Albus! He is brilliant! He is ace at Potions and Charms, is an amazing flyer and an asset to the Ravenclaw team, plus he's damn good-looking, thanks to Ginny's genes. He's determined and loyal and has plans for his future and I think Scorpius is bloody lucky to have him!"

Malfoy nodded sagely and Harry realised Malfoy had done it again. He nearly gnashed his teeth with annoyance, but Malfoy spoke. "Scorpius is serious and intelligent, a brilliant Seeker, is the best I've ever seen with Transfiguration and Magical Theory, plus he's gorgeous, thanks to _my_ genes. I think Albus should get down on his knees and thank—" Malfoy swallowed and then his face went completely red. Harry's did also once his words sank in. They both coughed and looked away from each other. Harry studied the items on McGonagall's desk.

"Well, then," Harry asked into the uncomfortable silence, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we should let them be."

Harry let out a breath, relieved that Malfoy had come to such a similar decision to his own, although he wasn't quite sure who had convinced whom in order to get there.

"Okay. Good. Then, um… what do we do about us?"

He chanced a glance at Malfoy, who was looking at him as though he had grown two heads. "What about us?"

Harry thought about throwing something at him, but didn't think Minerva would appreciate her inkwell splashing all over the room, despite the satisfaction Harry would feel when it bounced off Malfoy's forehead.

"This charade," Harry said with an irritated gesture. "The fact that they are… _together_ explains why all of their friends are so bloody concerned about our 'break up'. So what do we do about it?"

Malfoy looked relieved. "Oh, that." He waved a hand airily. "Business as usual. We keep on with the fighting and pretending to hate each other—you have to admit we're good at it—and the boys can sort it when they return."

Harry was not convinced. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"You prefer the alternative?" Malfoy snapped. "Snogging and groping in the corridors?"

Harry's face flamed faster than it had before. "N—no, of course not!"

"Good. Then Albus and Scorpius are still at odds, as long as we are in their likenesses. I dread to even consider what they are doing at Grimmauld Place and I definitely plan to have a long talk with Scorpius when this is over. Taking up with a Potter, honestly." With that, Malfoy turned and stalked out.

Harry sighed and tipped his head back in the chair before lifting a hand and massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers, pushing up his glasses as he did so. He knew Albus was probably having the time of his life, and probably laughing his arse off thinking about Harry discovering the truth.

For a moment Harry considered Flooing to Grimmauld Place to have a talk with the young prat, but if Malfoy could suck it up without a fight, so could Harry. He pushed away from McGonagall's desk and went out.

It wasn't until he was halfway to Ravenclaw Tower that he realized he hadn't asked Malfoy about the riddle.

xx*x*xx

Draco sprawled on the sofa in the Slytherin common room and reflected with a frown that it had been more comfortable in his day. All of the furniture had been replaced, except the leather armchair near the fireplace, and that seemed to have been reupholstered with darker leather. Every time it seemed Hogwarts hadn't changed, something would remind him that it had been twenty five years since he had walked the halls as a student.

He sighed and leaned his head back, suddenly feeling every one of those years. Bloody hell, Scorpius was gay—which he had already suspected—and dating a Potter, which had had definitely not expected. And Harry Potter was fine with it.

A blond boy suddenly sprawled next to Draco, encroaching on his personal space without apology.

"So, care to tell me what the fuck is up with you and Albus?"

Draco rolled his head to glare at the boy. His handsome features looked disturbingly familiar. _Louis Weasley_ , Draco decided, thinking back on Scorpius' recitation of his school mates. "What's it to you?"

Louis gave him a critical look. "Well, for one thing it appears you've both gone completely insane. You've never had a row that lasted all night—what happened to Al's _List_? Bludger is nearly in tears over it. She spent an hour railing at Hugo and me. The entire school is buzzing with speculation and yet you two are acting like it's nothing. Now, what the hell is going on?"

"I don't see why the entire school needs to get involved in our business," Draco said.

Louis rolled his eyes. "Surely, you're joking. You and Albus are the standard by which all couples are measured. The List has been reproduced to the point of being published in Witch Weekly. Albus hasn't slept in Ravenclaw Tower in three years and yesterday he goes there without even looking upset. Neither of you is behaving normally. Bludger is convinced it's a spell and after watching you both today I'm inclined to agree."

Draco frowned. "Three years?"

"Has it been four?" Louis countered, sounding serious.

Draco sat up, feeling a curious mental vertigo. _Four years_. Scorpius had neglected to mention being in a serious relationship for possibly four years? He rubbed a hand through his hair, cringing at the thinness he felt there. Bloody hell. Draco suddenly felt ridiculously old. Why hadn't Scorpius told him? Was Draco really that terrifying? Or closed off from his own son? How had Scorpius dealt with the summers away from Albus? Had they met secretly?

Draco pushed the questions aside and then glared at Louis. "Look, just because we've never had a row doesn't mean there isn't a first time for everything. People change."

"You're insistent that this is normal behaviour and not spell-induced?" Louis asked.

Draco got to his feet, affecting an annoyed mien he had seen on Scorpius hundreds of times. "Yes, Louis. And I'll thank you and the rest of the school to stay out of our business." With that, he stalked off to Scorpius' room, leaving the younger Slytherin watching after him thoughtfully.

It was damned odd, discovering his son was friends with Weasleys.

Scorpius' room was empty, thankfully, although his roommates would likely drift in to study and chat prior to meeting in the Great Hall for supper. Draco sat on Scorpius' bed and considered working on the Charms essay due the next day. So far he had only two classes with Potter, the first and last of the day, Potions and Charms.

"Malfoy, I need your help," Potter's voice said suddenly, nearly startling Draco out of a dozen years of life. The air shimmered and Potter appeared beneath the invisibility cloak that Draco alternately admired and despised.

"Will you not fucking do that?" Draco snarled, mortified at being caught off-guard. "How did you get in here?"

"I sneaked in behind Louis," Potter admitted. "Look, I can't get into Ravenclaw Tower, _shut up_ , and it gave me an idea."

Draco stared at him, unsure what to comment on first—the fact that Potter was too stupid to guess the Ravenclaw password, or that he had listened in on Draco's conversation with Louis.

" _You_ had an idea?" he asked in disbelief, settling on sarcasm.

Potter's glare was familiar and almost soothing. "I hate riddles, all right? Anyway, let me see your bracelet."

Draco frowned, but decided to humour Potter by holding up his hand and shaking the Slytherin robe back from the cuff to expose the silver bracelet.

Potter took his wrist in cold fingers and then pulled out his wand. He tapped the bracelet with the tip of his wand and mumbled an unfamiliar incantation before he dropped Draco's wrist. "There. We used to use coins to communicate back when we created Dumbledore's Army."

"You're assuming I want to communicate with you," Draco said dryly.

Potter backed up and sat down on the bed across from him. "I heard what Louis said. About Albus not staying in the Tower. I guess he sleeps here, then." Potter wasn't looking at him, instead twisting his wand in his hands. Despite his age, he suddenly looked very young and Draco remembered back to all the times Potter had sat with his friends and made the exact same gestures. He wondered if Potter missed them; assuredly being in the Slytherin dungeons had made Draco stupidly nostalgic for Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy and Blaise…

"Can you blame him?" Draco asked gently.

Potter's head snapped up and he said nothing for long moments until a smile finally curved his lips. "I suppose not. Scorpius is… Well, he must be wonderful if Albus loves him." Potter blushed, as if the admission had been dragged from him against his will.

"He is," Draco admitted.

"So, um. Will you help me with this stupid riddle?" Potter recited it and Draco rolled his eyes.

" _When you are full, you want to eat it_. Nothing, Potter. It's obvious."

Potter scowled and got to his feet. He dragged on the invisibility cloak. "Obvious, yeah. That's great. I'm so happy my son is a Ravenclaw." Potter sighed, looking bizarre as only a disembodied head. "I haven't seen any sign of Nott. Most of the Aurors are lurking around, looking obvious and, damn it, I don't know if we've made the right decision."

"It's only been one day, Potter. We acted on the evidence we had and chose the most logical path. Give it some time." Draco pushed away his own misgivings, knowing Potter had more to worry about with three children at risk, and only one of them inside his immediate sphere of control. Draco had argued against keeping Scorpius at Grimmauld Place, but in truth he could not think of a safer place for him, especially knowing he was under Granger's protection. Draco had grown to respect her over the years and knew her to be extremely competent.

Potter sighed heavily. "I know. Bloody hell. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Potter."

Potter disappeared completely and a moment later the door opened and shut. Draco lay back on the bed and thought about Albus and Scorpius for a long time.

xx*x*xx

The Marauder's Map was missing. Harry frantically searched around Albus' bed, then his entire trunk (turning up entirely too many prank items for comfort in the process), and finally the whole dorm room. It was gone. Repeated attempts at " _Accio_!" hadn't worked, either.

He sat on Albus' bed and cast his mind back to when he had last used it. He swore it was before he went to bed. He was sure he'd cancelled the spell on it and tucked it beneath his pillow. Harry gnawed on his lip and wondered if one of Albus' dorm mates had taken it. Did any of them know how it worked? It wasn't as though Harry could ask them.

He cursed again as he got to his feet and stalked downstairs. He thought about asking Rose if she knew anything, but he wasn't sure if the Weasley children were even aware of the Map's existence. Rose already thought he was acting crazy without adding bizarre questions to the mix.

The common room was full of children bent over their books, even before breakfast. Harry was definitely acquiring more respect for his son. Being a Ravenclaw was hard work. It seemed they were constantly thinking. Harry wrinkled his nose, knowing what Malfoy would say about that. Then he scowled and reminded himself that he was intentionally not thinking about Malfoy.

Harry had spent most of the night thinking about the other Malfoy, actually. It was hard to picture Albus with Scorpius, holding hands, staring dreamily into one another's eyes, walking together, _kissing_ … Harry had expected it to be disgusting, the thought of Albus having a relationship with another boy, but he found himself surprisingly okay with it, especially as all the pieces started locking into place. Albus had always been a bit different. Quieter. Harry had always thought it was because Albus was more introspective, but now he wondered if Albus had actually been afraid to reveal himself. It was a sobering thought. Was Harry really the sort of parent that his children were afraid to open up to? He wouldn't have thought so a couple of days ago, but now…

He sighed and left the tower, headed for the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He didn't have any classes with Malfoy today until one o' clock when they both had Advanced Potions. Harry had mentally cringed when he saw that on the scheduled. He didn't like potions any better now than he had as a child.

DADA, however, should be a piece of cake.

Harry sat next to Rose in the Great Hall after veering away from the Gryffindor table and remembering to sit with the Ravenclaws. She gave him a disapproving look. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, but Malfoy wasn't there. Hugo sauntered in and joined them, despite his Gryffindor colours.

"Albus," Hugo said casually.

"Hi, Hugo," Harry greeted and reached for the marmalade.

"Where did you get that bracelet, Albus?" Rose asked.

Harry jerked his hand back and placed it beneath the table in a guilty gesture. "Um. Malf—Scorpius. Before we um… got into a row."

"Oh, really? And you're still wearing it?"

"I like it," Harry said lamely and mentally kicked himself for not saying his mum or something other than the first thing that came to mind. "Just because we broke up doesn't mean I have to give everything back."

Rose gave him a look that bordered on horror. " _You broke up_?" she practically shrieked.

The silence around them was instantaneous and absolute. Harry threw her an annoyed stare and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Too late; the quiet turned into a buzz of whispers that Harry could practically follow around the room. Albus was going to kill him.

"Sorry," Rose whispered.

"Well, if you weren't broken up before, you certainly are now," Hugo said mildly. "Nice going, sis."

"He's the one who said it!" she protested.

Hugo pushed his empty plate away. "I'm not hungry. I never thought I'd see the day when Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy weren't together. I think I'll go re-evaluate my future." He gave Harry a look that seemed full of disappointment, got to his feet, and went out.

Rose made a noise that sounded curiously like a sob. "I can't believe it," she said. "I just can't believe it."

Harry's stomach twisted and he reached a hand across the table towards her. "Look, Rose—"

She gasped again, shot to her feet, and ran from the room, curls bouncing and robes flapping in her wake. Harry stared after her in surprise and then glanced at the other occupants of his table. None of them would meet his eyes.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and went to find Rose.

~TBC~


	4. Chapter 4

Rose was not to be found. By the time Harry gave up, it was time for class and he reluctantly went to the DADA classroom, which Albus had thankfully mentioned was in a rebuilt wing of the school on the fourth floor.

The room was massive and had a huge row of windows on one wall, which Harry thought might be dangerous with so many spells flying about.

"Good morning, class," said the professor, who was a tall, wiry fellow with a head of tight grey curls that did not move at all as he walked. He wore a tiny pair of oval spectacles, tinted green, which perched midway down his nose. _Professor Krause_ , Harry recalled from Albus' notes. He had only the merest hint of a German accent.

"Good morning, Professor," the students intoned cheerlessly.

"Today we will not be working on our Shield Charms, as originally planned." Krause held up a hand to quiet the assorted cheers and boos. "Instead, we are going to talk about the upcoming Yule Celebration. Are any of you aware of this momentous event?"

Several hands went up and a murmur of excitement found its way through the ranks of students. Harry's brow furrowed in puzzlement and he turned to a nearby Hufflepuff whose hand was raised. "What is he talking about?" Harry asked.

The Hufflepuff shushed him with an impatient look and Harry rolled his eyes, but Krause continued speaking. "Very good. For those of you who do not know, this year marks the twenty-fifth anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort. The Memorial in May was a solemn event, full of speeches and tearful recollections by the loved ones of those lost."

Harry nodded and swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat. He had spoken at the Memorial, something that thankfully occurred with decreasing frequency as time went on. It never got any easier and he still missed everyone as though it had happened yesterday.

"This will not be a sad, tearful occasion," Professor Krause went on, "but will, instead, be a celebration of those that survived, and a tribute to the fierce spirits of those who fought in the Great War and lived to forge the world in which we now live. It will be, in fact, a _party_!"

The students cheered and several made loud whistles or bangs with their wands reminiscent of celebratory crackers. Professor Krause laughed jovially and nodded. "Indeed, students. A most joyous occasion. Several members of the Ministry have been invited, as well as many special guests. It will be a momentous event and especially important for those of you at your last year at Hogwarts, which is to say, all of you here now."

Harry grinned at his fellow Seventh-year students, feeling a thrill of excitement. He vaguely recalled Minister Chang mentioning the event some time ago, but he had completely forgotten it in his concern over the Nott situation. He sobered, reluctantly aware that the event meant many outsiders would be coming and going at Hogwarts over the next few weeks, preparing for the affair. He raised his hand.

"Is this a good idea, Professor?" he asked. "It's something of a security risk for Hogwarts, isn't it? Allowing so many outside people into the school, I mean."

Professor Krause nodded. "Indeed, it is, Mr Potter. I am pleased that you brought it up. Precisely what this class is about, I must say. Ten points to Ravenclaw."

The Hufflepuff Harry had tried to speak to earlier gave him a disgruntled look, but Harry ignored him.

"Some of you may have noticed the recent presence of several Aurors around the school, although they have been dressed in ordinary robes to appear inconspicuous. They are here to monitor the comings and goings of outsiders. Please allow them to do their jobs, but in their off-hours, it is permissible to question them about their career choices. Those of you seeking employment with the Auror Department after Hogwarts may find this an excellent opportunity."

Harry nearly groaned aloud. He should probably warn his fellow Aurors that they could be mobbed by curious students at any time. Then again, he couldn't do so without divulging his own duplicity. Perhaps he could send notes…

"I am also asking all of you to be especially vigilant during this time. The event will occur during Hogwarts Winter Break, so most of the students will be at home, but several of you may elect to spend your holidays here. Please fill out the list posted near the door if you plan to remain at Hogwarts during the Yule Celebration. For anyone interested, I will be working with the Auror Department to ascertain that you receive special training and will be allowed to enhance the security of the event. No trouble is expected, of course, but one never knows." Krause's voice dipped low with his last words and he stared ominously at each student in turn.

Harry ignored his next class, Ancient Runes, in order to seek out McGonagall, who glanced over her glasses at him as he exited the circular stairwell.

"We need to cancel this Yule event," he said without preamble.

Her expression did not change. "That is hardly acceptable, Mr Potter."

"You know the wards are crumbling," he retorted and flopped down into a chair.

"Yes, the entire staff is aware. We are working on it."

Harry scowled. The wards around the school had apparently been failing even back in Dumbledore's early days. The fact that they had held since the days of the Founders was impressive, but the four had been very powerful wizards. Dumbledore had shored up the wards as best he could, and enhanced them in order to repel Voldemort, but recently even that protection had begun to decay. It was still impossible to Apparate in and out of Hogwarts, thanks to continual re-application of Anti-Disapparition wards, but it was becoming easier and easier for unwanted elements to cross onto school grounds without detection. The Auror Department regularly conducted tests at Hogwarts to ascertain how unstable the wards had become, and also to insure the safety of the students.

It was a closely guarded secret at Hogwarts and the Ministry, but like most closely guarded secrets, chances were good that unwelcome elements already knew of the problem.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but she lifted a hand. "Mr Potter, the event is to take place when most of Hogwarts' students are gone for the holidays. We are taking every possible precaution and most of the Ministry will be in attendance, including the entire Auror Department. I believe the school will be safe."

"I'm not concerned about their safety during the event," Harry protested. "It's all this activity leading up to it! People are already coming and going without—"

"Harry, no one is arriving at Hogwarts without authorization. Aurors are stationed at the school gates, the Floo is being continually monitored, and you know that Apparition is still impossible."

Harry was not convinced. The weakening wards meant that someone could cross into Hogwarts via the lake or the Forbidden Forest without detection.

"We also have Aurors within the school randomly checking the identities and positions of all adults within these walls. Your concerns are valid and I appreciate them, but we cannot call off an event that has been in the planning stages for two years because of a single madman. If you wish to eliminate the danger, you will work on capturing Alcott Nott before the event, which is scheduled for the twenty-third of December. I certainly hope he is not at large weeks from now."

Harry flushed and nodded, nearly admitting that his job would be quite a lot more difficult unless he located the Marauder's Map. He had been relying on it to point out Nott once he arrived at Hogwarts— _if_ he arrived at all.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" McGonagall asked pointedly.

Harry grinned ruefully. "I'm not very good at Ancient Runes. Never was."

She nodded. "Albus is extraordinarily good with them. Perhaps you should consult with him prior to attending class."

"I'm not quite ready to talk to Albus," Harry admitted.

Her gaze sharpened. "I take it you've learned about Scorpius, then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes. Apparently _everyone_ knew about him and Scorpius except for Malfoy— _Draco_ —and me."

"The boys have been very close at Hogwarts for quite some time. Your apparent 'falling out' has caused some disruption within the ranks of the students. I assume you've noticed?"

Harry shrugged. "The boys will fix it when they return."

"Have you considered that Nott might be suspicious of the dramatic alteration of your sons' behaviour should he happen to turn up? It is, after all, a very hot topic of gossip at the moment. The news of Albus' break up with Scorpius reached my ears this morning before I left the breakfast table."

"That was my mistake," Harry said quickly. "I didn't mean to say it like that."

She nodded. "Well, the damage is done. If you wish this charade to remain believable, you might want to do something to fix it. In my estimation, you two are not doing a very good job at mimicking your own children. Perhaps you should hand the idea off to different Aurors and concentrate on pursuing Nott through other means?"

Harry got to his feet, stung by the knowledge that he might not know Albus well enough to maintain the illusion. He bit back a retort, knowing she was right. He wasn't sure how Malfoy was doing as Scorpius, but he had definitely been doing a shite job as Albus. He couldn't even get into the Ravenclaw common room on his own.

"You're right," he admitted. "I'll… work on it, somehow."

Before he could depart, she added in a voice like iron, "Harry, we are all paying attention. You and Draco are not the only ones on alert. I will not have anyone disrupting my school or placing my students in danger."

Harry grinned, knowing she was right. He had seen her in action at the battle of Hogwarts and knew she was not a helpless flower, nor were the other teachers. "I know. Thanks, Professor."

xx*x*xx

Draco did not see Potter until after lunch, when they attended Advanced Potions together. Draco's classes had been fairly simple up to that point. Advanced Charms, Advanced Herbology, and Magical Theory had been interesting and surprisingly fun. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed learning, even if most of it was knowledge he had already learned, although much of it had evaporated from his memory.

Potter seemed more agitated than usual. Draco worried that the strain of maintaining his son's personae was getting to the Gryffindor. Potter was definitely no Ravenclaw. Draco smirked at his own thoughts.

"What's that for?" Potter demanded as he placed several vials and jars of potion-making ingredients on the table.

"Just thinking what an interesting Ravenclaw you make," Draco said mildly and suppressed a grin when Potter flushed.

"I've been thinking about that," Potter admitted in a low tone, leaning close to Draco as he spoke. Draco caught a whiff of Potter's fragrance, which was clean and crisp with a hint of citrus—was it orange? His thoughts wandered for a moment and he wondered if the scent was Potter's shampoo or his soap, and he nearly leaned forward to sniff at Potter's black hair before he remembered himself with a jolt of annoyance.

"Damn it, I forgot the holly leaves. Be right back." Potter moved away and strode back across the room to the supply cabinet. Draco watched him go and had to admit that Potter cut a fine figure in school robes. They had both chosen to alter their own clothing to that of the children in order to make the spell easier to maintain.

Draco nearly grinned at the idea of Potter as the object of someone's schoolboy fantasy, and then his amusement siphoned away completely. Ogden Wood had approached Potter and was standing far too close to him for comfort.

When Oliver Wood had left Hogwarts, he had ploughed through the female population of Europe and left behind a string of broken hearts. Broken hearts and a son named Ogden. Oliver had never bothered to marry the mother of the child, but he had publicly acknowledged the boy and doted on him to the point of spoiling him rotten.

Ogden was gorgeous, even Draco had to admit, looking like a taller, leaner version of Oliver. He had also just turned eighteen, according to Quidditch Quarterly, which had carried a spread of the boy in various states of undress.

Ogden spoke to Potter and trailed his fingers down the front of Potter's robes in a flirtatious gesture. Draco gaped at him and was surprised by a sudden flare of annoyance, exacerbated when Potter smiled at the boy and then laughed.

"For fuck's sake, Potter, he's half your age," Draco muttered.

"What's that, Scorpius?" the boy next to him asked, glancing up from his cauldron. Draco had forgotten his name. Miles or Milton?

"Nothing," Draco snapped.

The boy chuckled. "Looks like Ogden heard about your breakup. He's wanted Albus forever, you know. Does it bother you?"

"Of course not," Draco snapped. It did bother him, however, when Wood leaned forward and whispered something in Potter's ear that made Potter step back with eyes going wide and face turning scarlet.

"Obviously not," the boy said and snorted. He bent quickly to his task when Draco turned a cold stare on him.

Potter returned, obviously flustered.

"Having fun?" Draco asked dryly.

"Ogden Wood. Bloody hell." Potter's voice was hushed and slightly shaky. "He is quite grown up."

"He's a slut," Draco snapped. "What did he ask you?"

Potter shook his head and began to remove the holly leaves from the sprig in his hand. "Never mind." He glanced at Draco, who was not pleased to note a glint of amusement there. "I've never been propositioned by a man before. It's interesting."

Draco's fingers froze on the bottle of absinthe he had been in the process of uncorking. _Interesting_? Potter's cheeks were still pink and he seemed far from disturbed. Draco's eyes sought out Wood, who smirked in Potter's direction. Bloody hell, was it possible Potter was considering taking Wood up on his offer, whatever it had been?

"We need to talk about this _break up_ ," Draco snarled, leaning close so that only Potter could hear him.

Potter nodded. "Yes, I meant to tell you earlier, but I couldn't find you at lunch. I think we should—I mean Albus and Scorpius—should get back together."

Draco dropped the absinthe. Green liquid spilled all over the table and leaked onto the cricket wings he had painstakingly sorted. Potter pinned him with a look, his eyes reflecting the absinthe and glinting with humour.

"I think our grade today is going to be abysmal," Potter commented.

"I hate you," Draco replied.

Potter's laugh was annoying and had nothing to do with the strange rush of warmth that nearly coaxed a smile onto Draco's lips at the sight of Ogden Wood's frown.

"Very well, let's hear your stupid idea," Draco said as they left the Potion's classroom and headed for the Slytherin dungeon. Potter trotted partially behind him, obviously struggling to keep up.

"It's McGonagall's, actually," Potter said and waited as Draco muttered the Slytherin password and let them into the common room. Several students looked up as they entered, but Draco grabbed Potter's wrist and led him straight to Scorpius' dorm room. The door closed behind them with finality.

The room was empty and Draco cast a Silencing Charm and a Locking Spell for good measure. Then he turned and waited for Potter to start speaking.

Potter picked up a photo from Scorpius' bedside table. Astoria smiled and waved in the photo, clutching Draco's sleeve while he laughed at her. Draco remembered the occasion, a New Year's Eve party when Scorpius was a toddler. Astoria had been drunk off her arse, enough that they hadn't argued at all. Instead she had passed out on the stairs, apparently mid-snog with Pansy Parkinson.

"Your wife?" Potter asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"Ex-wife," Draco corrected. Astoria's experimentation phase aside, they had never been able to manage more than a few days without shouting at one another. Draco had not wanted Scorpius growing up in such a volatile environment, so he had packed Astoria off to Italy where she had met some Italian apothecarist and begged for a divorce when Scorpius was eight. Draco had granted it and even managed to keep it out of the papers with a hefty exchange of Galleons to the right people.

Scorpius had been raised by Draco and his doting grandparents. So far, he thought they had all done an admirable job, with the possible exception of the boy falling for a Potter.

"You're divorced?" Potter's gaze was direct and surprised.

"For nearly a decade, now. We're not here to talk about me, Potter."

Potter replaced the photo and then sat on one of the beds. "No, we're here to talk about Alcott Nott. Professor McGonagall—Minerva, seems to think our behaviour is out of the ordinary enough to cause suspicion should Nott actually show up here. This breakup could reveal our duplicity."

Draco raised a brow at Potter's use of the word _duplicity_. Perhaps he wasn't completely hopeless as a Ravenclaw, after all. "So, what do you propose, Potter?"

"We need to start acting more like the boys. I think they need to um… get back together." Potter plucked at the edge of his robe, lifting it away from his black trousers and running his fingers nervously up and down the seam. He shot a glance at Draco and then looked back at his hands.

Draco sat down on Scorpius' bed. "You're saying you want us to be seen as a couple?"

Potter nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "It can't be that hard. I mean, we just need to be seen together, right? Maybe hold hands. Unless you think you can't manage it." Potter looked at him then, with a challenge hardening his green eyes.

Draco sneered. "I hardly think I'll be the one acting like a blushing idiot, considering your earlier behaviour with Wood."

"That was unexpected!" Potter protested. "And, frankly, I would rather not receive any more dubious propositions from randy teenagers. Our alleged reconciliation should prevent that."

Draco nodded and then cocked his head at Potter as a wicked idea flitted through his mind. "I don't think you can pull it off."

Potter's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Wood's suggestion caught you off-guard. How would you handle a less surprising situation?" With that, Draco stood up and walked across to sit next to Potter. He lifted one of Potter's hands and linked their fingers together before leaning into him.

Potter tilted away, eyes widening in surprise, and then he caught himself and froze. His chin lifted. "Do your worst, Malfoy," he taunted.

Draco kissed him.

Potter's lips were warm and unmoving at first, and Draco reflected with amusement that it was much like kissing a wax replica. He must have made an amused sound, because Potter's arm suddenly curled around Draco's waist and pulled him even closer. To Draco's surprise, Potter's mouth opened and his tongue brushed over Draco's lips.

Draco reflexively opened up to let him in—bloody hell, how long had it been since he'd kissed anyone at all?—and then he was lost in sensation. Their tongues curled together and caressed sensitive places, licking and lapping with competitive vigour at first, and then with something else entirely. Draco's hand curled in Potter's thick hair, soft despite its unruly appearance.

The kiss took on a life of its own, uncoiling something within Draco long suppressed, but never entirely forgotten. Potter kissed like all Gryffindors—throwing his entire being into it and giving as well as receiving. Like Draco, he seemed to have lost sight of the person he was kissing, biting eagerly at Draco's lips and swiping his tongue over the ridges in Draco's mouth, sending shivers of delight spiralling through his blood.

A banging noise shattered the interlude. "Scorpius?"

Draco jerked away, staring into Potter's shocked green eyes for a moment before untangling his hand from Potter's hair and unlinking their fingers. "What?" Draco shouted, glaring at the portal as an excuse not to read too deeply into Potter's enigmatic stare.

"Silencing Charm," Potter reminded him.

 _Fuck_. Draco stood up and cast _Finite Incantatum_ to cancel the spells. "Come in!" he bellowed.

The door opened and Louis stuck his head in the door. "Hey, Scorpius, did you forget about Quidditch practice, because we could really use… Well, hello, Albus."

Draco glared at Louis, whose last three words had taken on a singsong tone. "Yes. I forgot about Quidditch. I'll be right there."

"Great. I'll let the others know. Unless you want me to make excuses?"

Draco frowned. For a Weasley, Louis had quite a wicked leer. "I'll be along," Draco said stonily.

Potter got to his feet and then wrapped Draco in a sudden embrace. "See you later," Potter said huskily and planted a kiss on Draco's cheek. Before Draco could react, Potter said, "Hey, Louis," and then sidled past him and out the door.

Louis chuckled. "I knew you guys couldn't hold out for long. It was all fake, wasn't it? Did you have a bet or something?"

"Don't you have Quidditch practice?" Draco demanded.

Louis gave him a two-fingered salute and hurried after Potter.

xx*x*xx

Harry walked as quickly as possible across the Slytherin common room, ignoring all curious glances sent his way. He had little hope that his cheeks weren't flaming and it was all he could do not to break into a run.

 _I kissed Draco Malfoy_. The words kept repeating themselves, looping through his mind as if demanding an explanation. _I kissed Draco Malfoy._

Harry admitted it wasn't the fact of the kiss that had him so bothered, it was the _manner_ of kiss. Bloody hell, Harry hadn't been kissed like that since… Well, long enough that he couldn't remember. It had been strange and overwhelming and… Completely bloody brilliant. Merely thinking about it had Harry staggering out of the Slytherin common room and stumbling against the wall, where he put out a hand to steady himself.

 _I kissed Draco Malfoy_. _And I fucking liked it._

"You okay, Albus?"

Harry straightened and threw a quick smile at Louis. "I'm fine, just feeling a bit dizzy."

Louis chuckled. "It's been a while since Scorpius had that affect on you. Guess you two should not pretend to break up anymore, _oui_?"

"I guess not," Harry agreed.

"You coming to watch Quidditch?"

Harry had fully intended to go and sprawl on Albus' bed and track over the memory of kissing Draco Malfoy, but he supposed that might be a very bad idea with it so fresh in his mind. And the idea of watching Malfoy fly was suddenly very appealing. "Yeah, I think I will."

Harry followed Louis out to the Quidditch pitch where the Slytherin team was already in the air. Louis gave him a wave and ran out to snatch his broom from where it leaned against the wall. With hardly a pause in his stride, he leaped onto the broom and shot into the air. All of the Weasley children were remarkable flyers. Harry smiled broadly when Louis did several dizzying barrel rolls before speeding across the field to join his teammates.

He shivered suddenly, aware that it was growing dark and the weather was turning cold. Harry had left his warm cloak inside. He cast an absent wandless Warming Charm and sat down in the stands.

"Hello, Mr Potter," said a male voice from the shadows. Harry jumped and held his wand out warningly; he had drawn it almost quicker than thought. A chuckle met his reflexive gesture. "My, my, you are Harry Potter's son, aren't you? Most impressive."

"Who are you?" Harry asked, heart thudding in his chest. Had Alcott Nott finally made his move?

The man stepped from the shadows and strode forward slowly. Harry had never seen him before. He was tall and lanky with dark hair plaited into a large number of braids that dangled from beneath a pointed wizard hat. "I am Kyle Nevus, from the _Daily Voice_." The man stuck out his hand, but Harry ignored it to give him a cool stare.

"I don't like reporters," Harry said. The _Daily Voice_ was an upstart paper that had grown from reporting social scenes and a bit of gossip to stepping on the toes of the Daily Prophet with more serious pieces. Harry preferred to ignore them all, and treat every reporter the same—with a cold shoulder.

Nevus laughed. "Spoken just like your father. You can put the wand down, son, my only weapon is my quill." Nevus snapped his fingers and a large black quill appeared in his fingers. He twirled it once and then it Vanished.

"Why are you at Hogwarts?" Harry asked and vowed to have a word with the Auror team for allowing a bottom-feeding reporter onto school grounds.

"I'm here to report the progress of the upcoming celebration, of course."

"There are no celebrations planned for the Quidditch pitch."

"You were properly Sorted into Ravenclaw, I see. Wise boy. Indeed, I saw you walking with your friend and I got the notion to follow the son of the Great Potter. I was hoping you would be willing to shed some light on the elusive family. The public has always been very curious about the Potters."

Harry glared. He had always been highly protective of his children, especially where the acid pen of the press was concerned.

"Too bad their curiosity will have to remain unsatisfied," Harry said flatly. Movement drew his attention and he watched as Malfoy strode onto the pitch, robes flaring behind him. He had donned a furred black hat and black gloves, and carried a broom. Harry watched as Malfoy straddled the broom and then lifted easily into the air. Harry wondered how often he flew these days, because his motions were as graceful as they had ever been.

"Scorpius Malfoy," Nevus said, breaking Harry's study. "Rumour has it that you two are, how shall I put this… close friends. _Very_ close friends."

The urge to hex Nevus and turn him into an inanimate part of the Quidditch stands was nearly overwhelming. Harry's wand cut into his hand as he fought the desire. "My relationship with Scorpius is none of your business," he said and managed to maintain an even tone.

Nevus made a tsking noise. "You are the son of Harry Potter. Surely the public will forgive you for any frivolous teenaged indiscretions. We were all young once."

Harry turned to stare at the man, hardly able to believe he had just categorized Albus' love affair with Scorpius as a frolicsome indiscretion, as though it were something of which to be ashamed, something he would outgrow. " _Forgive_?"

Nevus straightened, possibly reconsidering his words in light of Harry's tone.

"I will have you know," Harry snarled, "That being in love with Scorpius Malfoy is not _frivolous_ nor is it something that will require _forgiveness from the public_. Frankly, the _public_ never gives a cracked cauldron what the Potters do unless they find it salacious and worthy of tongue-wagging gossip, so anyone having a problem with this relationship can go fuck themselves with a broom handle!" Harry had climbed to his feet during his diatribe and his voice had risen to a shout.

Nevus scrambled away from him and held both hands out in a placating manner. "Quite right!" he cried. "Very well said, Master Potter! Well said!" With that, the man scrambled out of the stands and bolted.

Harry sat down heavily and stared after the fleeing man. Bloody hell, he had just outed his own son to the press. His eyes returned to the pitch and picked out Draco Malfoy, who spiralled lazily through the darkening sky, recognizable to Harry by his flying style alone. It was turning out to be an eventful day.

Harry had Quidditch practice after supper, and Malfoy did not eat in the Great Hall, so Harry did not see him at all before he returned to Ravenclaw Tower just after 8pm. Rose looked at him curiously when he entered. She was propped cross-legged on a chair with a book hovering before her, pages languidly turning as she read.

"I thought you and Scorpius made up," she commented.

"We did. I, um… came to get something." Harry had completely forgotten that Albus usually spent the night in the Slytherin dungeon. Harry's cheeks burned at the knowledge that not only was his son sexually active, but he apparently had been for quite some time. Harry was not naïve enough to consider the option that the boys had been celibate. He remembered being a randy seventeen-year-old. Abstinence was not an option.

Harry climbed the stairs to the dorm, wondering what Malfoy would do if Harry showed up in his room. Hex him? Or kiss him again? He shoved down a rush of glee at the thought. Apparently his lust-addled libido thought more kissing would be a fine idea.

Another random search turned up no Marauder's Map, although Harry did discover a well-worn scroll with The List written in fancy scrollwork at the top. Feeling slightly guilty, Harry scanned the words. It was obviously a collective effort, written in two different handwritings, one recognizable as Albus', who had penned the first one in bold strokes.

 **  
_Item One: Handholding is required whenever hands are available for holding._   
**

The second line was an elegant script with green ink.

 **  
_Item Two: Kissing should be done whenever possible, except in cases where it will lead to detention._   
**

Albus had added an addendum to Item Two which read **_Sometimes it's worth detention._**

Harry smiled at that and shook his head; it was so Albus. The third item was melancholy, written in Scorpius' hand.

 **  
_Item Three: Hugs are mandatory, even if we are not together._   
**

**  
_Item Four: When we're apart we will write each other daily, even if it's only a note to say I miss you. Letters to be delivered by hand if owls are not an option._   
**

**  
_Item Five: Never go to bed angry. Fight it out to the bitter end until we make up, despite keeping dorm mates up all night._   
**

**  
_Item Six: Consideration for dorm mates is a necessity, especially when they have the ability to fill your bed with treacle. Slytherin dorm mates are evil._   
**

**  
_Item Seven: Chocolate is always an acceptable apology, especially when applied (scribbles)_   
**

Harry wrinkled his nose, glad for the heavily blotted out area—he was certain he would prefer not to know. There were doodles around the edges of the listed items, including stick figures holding hands, a flying Snitch, several brooms, and a heart with AP/SM in the centre.

Harry carefully rolled the scroll and put it back where he'd found it before grabbing the Invisibility Cloak and his pyjamas. He shoved them both into a bag, cursing mildly when the bracelet he wore snagged on a strap. The sight of the glinting metal gave him a sudden idea and he realized he had the perfect reason to go and seek out Malfoy. Relieved, he slung the knapsack over one shoulder and left the dorm room.

Rosie beamed and waved at him when he passed through the common room, blissfully unaware of the fact that he might be walking to his doom.

~TBC~


	5. Chapter 5

Harry remembered the Slytherin password and was not surprised when none of the Slytherins gave him more than a nod and a wave when he entered. He forced a smile and continued on to Malfoy's room, which he should probably not refer to mentally as _the scene of the crime_ , since he had been the one daring Malfoy to do his worst.

The room was occupied with two other students as well as Malfoy, although Harry barely registered them at the sight of Draco Malfoy standing in candlelight wearing nothing but black silk pyjama pants.

After an awkward silence, Malfoy said, "Albus." He gestured fluidly towards the bed, which seemed to loom before Harry like the gateway to hell.

Harry nodded and trudged to the four-poster. He slung his knapsack on the bed and crawled onto the mattress, thinking how much smaller the beds seemed than when he was a boy. They were hardly large enough for two grown men. Not that he planned to sleep with Malfoy, of course.

"Nice to have you back, Potter," one of Draco's dorm-mates called as Draco levered himself onto the bed and yanked the curtains closed. Soft light flooded the enclosed space immediately and Harry looked up to find a softly glowing blue orb floating at the top of the curtain hoop.

Malfoy cast several spells, mostly Silencing Charms, but said nothing more, only crossed his legs and sat back against the pillows, waiting.

"I'm here about the bracelets," Harry said quickly and held out his wrist to display the silver.

Malfoy only looked puzzled.

"We can use them to communicate," Harry went on. "We used charmed coins to organize Dumbledore's Army back when Umbridge was in charge. Here, I'll teach you the spell." Harry scooted forwards, glad of the muted blue light because he could tell he was blushing like an idiot simply because of Malfoy's proximity. Harry tried to get a handle on his emotions; for pity's sake, he was acting like a schoolboy instead of a fully grown man with children. It had been a ruddy kiss, nothing more!

Malfoy obediently held out his wrist and Harry took it. Malfoy's skin was warm and soft, but Harry focussed on the bracelet. He tapped the metal with his wand and whispered the Protean Charm that turned it into a two-way message device before dropping Malfoy's arm.

"Can you do mine? I can't reach it unless I take it off and if I do that…" Harry let the thought dangle—Malfoy would turn into Scorpius to Harry's sight if he removed the bracelet.

Malfoy frowned, but tried the spell several times with Harry's guidance. Finally, Harry thought it sounded right. He touched his own bracelet with the tip of his wand—somewhat awkwardly since he was forced to use his right hand—and concentrated.

One word appeared on the flat metal portion of Malfoy's bracelet. _Hello_.

Malfoy repeated his gesture and Harry's bracelet warmed immediately with a slight vibration. An engraved word appeared: _Onanist_.

Harry frowned. "What does that mean?"

Malfoy laughed. "Never mind, Potter. It's enough that the spell works. Now you can be at my beck and call. That is what you had in mind, yes?" Malfoy's voice was soft and disturbingly sexy, which did not help at all when coupled with the fact that he was completely bare above the waist. His stomach was lean and muscular, not at all gone to soft flab like many others in their age range. Malfoy had not only aged well, but he was one of those rare individuals that only grew more attractive with age, like a fair colt that gradually evolved into a fine thoroughbred.

"Is there anything else, Potter, or are you just going to sit there and stare at me all night?"

Harry straightened and forced himself to look away. "I think we should go see the boys."

"Our sons? Why?"

"We need more information if we are going to carry out this charade. Today, when I was leaving, I wasn't sure what to call you. Does Albus have a pet name for Scorpius? Do they use nicknames? Should I call you darling, pet, precious, fairy cake, or crumpet?"

Malfoy recoiled in horror and Harry choked back a laugh. After that reaction, he hoped Albus had bestowed a revoltingly sweet name on Scorpius just so that he could use it on Malfoy frequently.

"We should also find out their routine. Where they go when they are together and whatnot."

Malfoy nodded. "For once you have a good idea, Potter. We should go talk to them. If only to prove that Scorpius would never allow anything as heinous as a pet name." He lifted his wand.

"Wait!" Harry said. "I'll go out first and tell your dorm-mates I'm fetching a snack or something. You follow behind with this on." Harry turned to his knapsack and tugged out the invisibility cloak. "It's not after curfew yet, but we don't know what time we'll be back, so we can use the cloak to avoid Filch, if necessary."

Harry had been somewhat surprised to find Filch not only alive and well, but even more grim and angry than he had been in Harry's day. Probably still mourning the glory days of Umbridge, Harry figured.

"Fine, but let me put something else on." Malfoy Summoned his pyjama shirt and slid into it, then reached down next to the bed and took up a pair of slippers. He tucked his bare feet into the soft-looking shoes and nodded at Harry, who cancelled the spells and slipped out between the bed curtains.

"Going for some pumpkin juice," Harry said and jerked a thumb at the door, talking to the Slytherin in the next bed. He watched expressionlessly as Harry moved to the door, walking slowly until he felt Malfoy brush up against his back.

They headed for McGonagall's office.

xx*x*xx

Draco sipped at his tea and watched his son, seated next to Albus Potter on the opposite couch. Scorpius looked a bit out-of-sorts, but defiant. Albus Potter's arm was draped over Scorpius' shoulder in a possessive—or possibly protective—manner.

"Figured it out?" had been the first words out of Albus' mouth when he'd spotted them coming out of the Floo. He hadn't seemed at all self-conscious and Draco was struck by the differences between Albus and Harry Potter. Albus appeared to be brash confidence and cleverness where his father was more cautious and unassuming.

"Yes, Albus, thank you so much for allowing us to walk into that situation without forewarning." Potter's words were dry.

Albus had chuckled and then went to locate Scorpius while Draco sat on the nearest sofa and Potter went to prepare tea. The boys had piled onto the sofa across from Draco just before Harry entered with a teapot and several Levitated cups.

Potter set the teapot on the sofa table and the cups all lined up obediently in a row. Harry poured and handed out the steaming liquid one cup at a time.

"All right," Potter said without bothering to drink from his cup. "You two are a couple. We'll discuss your inability to disclose this information during the span of _four years_ at another time."

Draco was glad to see Scorpius wince. Even the younger Potter glanced away before returning his gaze to his father's.

"What we need now is information. This might seem invasive, especially in view of the fact that we just learned about your relationship today, but in order to catch the man who would cheerfully murder all of us, Malf—Draco—and I need to know your routines. You told us your class schedules and filled us in on the rudiments of your classmates and friends, but you neglected to tell us how you interact with one another."

"A rather important bit of information to leave out, don't you think?" Draco commented dryly.

Scorpius flushed and his hands clenched around his teacup. Albus' arm tightened around Scorpius' shoulders. Scorpius choked out, "Father, I wanted to tell you so many times…"

"Scorpius, don't," Albus said quietly. "It's done now. Don't beat yourself up over it. We talked about this."

"I should have told him." Scorpius sounded miserable, the way he had when he was six and had broken Astoria's favourite crystal flower sculpture.

"Yes, you should have," Draco said, "But Albus is correct. It's done and the important thing now is ensuring your safety. I assume there are no further secrets looming on the horizon? No secret wedding? Neither of you is pregnant?"

Three pairs of eyes stared at him with varying degrees of disbelief. Draco enjoyed the shocked silence for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Merlin, your faces! Even you, Potter, honestly. You are aware that men cannot get pregnant even with magic? It was a joke."

"He jokes?" Albus asked in a strange tone.

"Not… frequently," Scorpius replied, looking even more worried. Draco grinned, feeling bizarrely amused by the entire situation. Frankly, the day had been completely mad, from the discovery of his son's homosexuality to the amazing and strangely arousing kiss with Potter. And now this; drinking tea in his pyjamas while discussing their gay children's' proclivities.

Draco suppressed another round of chuckles with difficulty. "Please tell me you do not have any horrific pet names for one another."

Scorpius craned his head to look back at Albus with a grin. "Well, I do like to call him _mrphlblrp_." The last word was muffled by Albus clamping a hand over Scorpius' mouth. Remarkably, it was the hand that had been holding his teacup moments before; the teacup hovered in the air next to the sofa, wandlessly Levitated as though with an afterthought. Apparently the Potter sprog was just as magically powerful as his father.

"Very funny," Albus said warningly. "I told you that name was never to be uttered outside of our bed." He flushed scarlet. "I mean…"

Potter coughed and took a large gulp of tea.

"No pet names!" Albus said loudly. "Unless you count Marmalade Cheeks."

Scorpius' elbow caught Albus in the abdomen and he grunted on a laugh. A moment later, Albus yelped and yanked his hand away from Scorpius' mouth, obviously just having been bitten. "Thanks for that, _Primrose_ ," Scorpius said.

"Oi, you're not allowed to call me that in public!"

"You just told them about Marmalade Cheeks!"

"I didn't tell them _why_ ," Albus said in a sly tone and Scorpius' face went crimson. For a moment, the two boys simply looked at each other and the teasing atmosphere between them changed to something charged with tension. Draco almost felt that the boys were the only two in the room, so intimate was the look between them. Draco knew if they had been the only two in the room that heated snogging would be on the agenda, followed by even more erotic activity. It was painfully obvious.

Potter cleared his throat. "No pet names," he said in a strangled tone. "At least, none where other schoolmates can overhear. That's good." Potter nodded like a marionette. "Do you hold hands? Physical displays of affection in public?"

"Well, yeah," Albus admitted. "All the time."

Scorpius chuckled. "Especially the cloak effect."

Albus grinned. "Yeah. I like that."

"The cloak effect?" Potter asked, sounding as if he would rather not know.

"Um. I guess we should show you."

Scorpius set down his teacup and got to his feet. Albus took his own porcelain cup from the air and placed it on the table and then both boys stood next to the sofa.

"This is how we usually stand when we're together," Scorpius said. His cheeks were still slightly pink, but his stance showed determination. Albus moved behind Scorpius and draped himself over Draco's son, wrapping his arms around Scorpius torso and clasping his own arms with his hands while resting his chin on Scorpius' shoulder. "My Albus cloak. It's especially nice on cold mornings."

Draco sensed Potter relax slightly next to him.

"And when I'm really tired," Albus added leaning more heavily on Scorpius, who shifted his feet to manage the added weight.

"Stop that, you oaf," Scorpius said without rancour.

Albus laughed and then jerked his head up. "Hey, you guys are going to be late for the meeting. This is Friday, yeah?"

Potter blinked. "What meeting?"

"You know, the big Yule Celebration? We're on the committee. Most of the Seventh-years got roped into it. Bludger will be breathing down your necks if you don't show. She's in charge of the Seating Arrangement and she takes it very seriously."

Potter frowned. "You didn't mention this earlier."

"I forgot. Our jobs are pretty lame. I'm on Security detail, which involves keeping the younger students in their beds on the appointed night. Luckily there won't be that many around due to the holidays. Scorpius is on the Mighty Decorating Squad."

"Thanks to you!" Scorpius said with a scowl.

"That's what you get for missing the first meeting. Besides, you're brilliant at it and you know you love it." Albus looked at his father. "The meeting is at nine in the Charm's classroom. Flitwick is mostly in charge, although McGonagall is handling the Ministry." The boys hadn't moved from their embrace and Albus' fingers moved lightly over Scorpius' abdomen; seeming to move of their own accord. He doubted the boy was even aware of it; as natural as it appeared. Scorpius blushed and caught his hand.

Potter sighed and Draco commiserated. It had been a long day and sitting through a boring meeting was not on Draco's agenda. "Too bad I'm already in pyjamas and settled for the night. You'll just have to go without me, Potter."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Potter rolled his eyes, but got to his feet. "Oh, Albus, I need to ask you something. Um, privately."

Albus disentangled himself from Scorpius, much to Draco's relief. It was one thing to be aware of the relationship, but quite another to watch his own child behave so intimately with his chosen partner. Albus and Harry departed toward the kitchen. Scorpius returned to the sofa and sat down stiffly.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius blurted. "I just never knew how to tell you. I tried about seven dozen times, but the words just… wouldn't come."

Draco smiled gently. "Malfoys are not known for sitting down and having intimate conversations. This isn't the first time I've regretted that fact. Sometimes I feel I've missed a great deal of your life."

Scorpius shook his head. "You haven't missed anything. Just… Albus, which, admittedly, is a pretty big deal. I suppose it was mostly the enormity of it all. The fact that I like boys, coupled with Albus being a Potter. You tend to rant about his father a lot, you know? And you can be a bit dramatic with your reactions to certain situations."

"I am not dramatic!" Draco protested.

Scorpius gave him a sardonic look that Draco knew would not look out of place on his own face. "Really? What about the time Grandmother sold the Hervoire?"

"That was _mine_!" Draco snapped, although he fidgeted at the memory.

Scorpius laughed. "Your temper tantrum lasted a full week. You practically wrecked the third floor study and you wilted her champagne roses. Honestly, Father, your rages can be excessive."

"I loved that painting." Draco knew he was pouting, but the sting had not diminished even after three years. He had tried to purchase it from the new owner to no avail.

"It was repugnant. We all detested it and you refused to keep it in your own room."

Draco scowled, but he supposed Scorpius had a point. It was slightly possible that he overreacted at times.

Potter returned from his mysterious mission to speak to his son alone. Albus was grinning, so Draco supposed it hadn't been an earth-shattering conversation. "Let's go," Potter said brusquely and walked toward the fireplace.

Draco got to his feet and resolved to have a word with Potter about issuing commands. Scorpius stood, also, and Draco marched over and wrapped his son in a hard embrace. "Despite your questionable taste in men," Draco murmured, "I'm quite proud of the person you've become, Scorpius."

Scorpius' arms tightened around his waist. "Thank you," Scorpius whispered.

Draco's throat closed up with emotion and he pushed his son away lest they both become maudlin, which would be unacceptable before Potters. He clapped Scorpius on the shoulder, gave Albus a warning look, and then followed the elder Potter through the Floo.

xx*x*xx

Professor Flitwick demanded status reports from all comers, so Harry had time to mull over his visit with Albus while the other students spoke up. Flitwick took copious notes by spelling a piece of chalk to write on a large blackboard that hovered in the air. He seemed to hang on the words of each student, as if the Yule Celebration was the most important thing ever to happen at Hogwarts.

Harry had asked Albus if anyone knew about the Marauder's Map, without actually mentioning that it was missing. Albus had kept hold of the Map for an untold length of time while Harry had lost it on his first full day at Hogwarts.

Albus had shrugged. "Only Lily. And Hugo."

Since Lily was with Ginny, it stood to reason that only Hugo would have sneaked into Albus' room in Ravenclaw Tower and taken it. But why? Regardless, Harry resolved to locate Hugo at the earliest opportunity and determine whether or not he had it.

"Mr Potter," Professor Flitwick stated and Harry sat up with a start.

"Yes, sir?"

"Please report on the status of your Yule Celebration duties, if it's not too much trouble."

Several students snickered and Harry got to his feet. "Yes, sir. The Security Detail is fully prepared to extend as much assistance to the staff as is deemed necessary. We have been in conference with several teachers and mapped out many feasible options for keeping the younger students properly confined to their beds during the function." Albus had given Harry the rudiments of their planning for the event, but over twenty years of working at the Ministry had given Harry higher education in regards to Bullshit 101.

Harry sat down.

"Thank you, Mr Potter. And where is Mr Malfoy this evening?"

Harry scowled. _Too bloody lazy to put his clothes back on and attend this ridiculous meeting_ , Harry thought to himself. Aloud he said, "He was not feeling well, but promised to make a full report at the next assemblage."

Flitwick pursed his lips and rubbed a hand across his chin. "Very well, Mr Potter, but please assure Mr Malfoy that his input is of great importance."

"Absolutely, Professor," Harry said and nodded in the way Albus did whenever he was trying to act particularly earnest.

Flitwick stared at him so long Harry wondered if there was another request he meant to make, but finally the diminutive professor turned his attention to another student and left Harry to his own thoughts.

Albus had been less than traumatized when Harry had mentioned his conversation with the reporter. In fact, his reaction had been a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Naturally, amusement won.

"Outed to the press by my own father," Albus had said and then chuckled.

"I didn't mean to! You know how much I hate reporters!"

Albus had ribbed him a few more times and then asked, "Did you tell Mr Malfoy?"

Even now, Harry felt slightly nauseas at the idea. He knew Malfoy would be less than pleased that Harry had unwittingly mentioned his son's name in connection with a potentially lascivious story. It was more than likely the press would be clamouring to talk to Harry Potter the instant the story broke, which was brilliant timing with someone at the Ministry pretending to be Harry.

He would have to send a message to Cho and warn her. He suppressed a yawn and waited for the interminable meeting to end.

xx*x*xx

It was after the ten o'clock curfew when Harry finally made his way back to the Slytherin dungeon. He had considered simply returning to Ravenclaw Tower, but that would probably raise another ruckus amongst Albus' and Scorpius' friends. Harry also needed to tell Malfoy about the press situation.

Thankfully, Harry did not encounter Filch anywhere on his route back from the owlery and reached the dungeons without incident. The Slytherin Common room held only three people—one curled on a sofa, apparently asleep, and two others snogging while seated in a chair that was meant for one.

Harry ignored them and hurried to Malfoy's room.

"Have a nice meeting?" Malfoy called when Harry entered.

"Not really, no," Harry admitted. "And Flitwick demands an accounting for the next one, so no getting out of it."

Two Slytherins were already inside their beds with curtains drawn. Another was reading by wandlight and gave Harry only a cursory glance when he entered. Harry paused for a moment and then climbed onto the mattress. Malfoy spelled the curtains shut and cast the usual privacy spells.

"Well, anything interesting?"

"Not at the meeting. I sent Cho an owl." Harry explained his earlier meeting with Nevus in the Quidditch stands.

"Great timing, Potter."

"I plan to have a word with McGonagall and the Auror Department for allowing reporters to wander around Hogwarts accosting students. I already mentioned it to Cho." Harry's rant was cut short by a huge yawn that nearly cracked the tendons in his jaw. "Bloody hell, what a long day."

"Are you sure this Nevus person was who you said he was? Did you check his credentials?"

Harry refused to admit he had made a rookie mistake by not verifying Nevus' story with a barrage of spells. "How was I to do that without giving away the fact that I'm not Albus?" he murmured angrily.

"You're the Auror. That's your job." Malfoy's hand waved airily and Harry's lips thinned. _Once a prat, always a prat_. "Are you going to take your cloak and sneak back to your room now?"

Harry shook his head. The thought of climbing all those stairs back to Ravenclaw Tower was not appealing, nor was waking early to return to Malfoy's room. Additionally, the opportunity to annoy Malfoy was too tempting to pass up. Harry stretched out on the bed and kicked off his shoes. They thudded to the floor with twin thumps.

"No. I'm too bloody tired. I'm sleeping right here, like Albus always does, apparently." Harry yanked back the blankets, not bothering to look at Malfoy and register the level of annoyance on his face. Harry shucked his pseudo school robes and Transfigured his trousers into pyjama pants. They were soft enough, if a bit tight around the thighs. It would have to do.

He removed his shirt and threw himself on the sheets before dragging the blankets back around him. Turning his back to Malfoy, he said, "Goodnight, prat."

Malfoy muttered something, yanked some of the blankets away from Harry, and then settled onto his side of the bed, not touching Harry in the slightest. The blueish ball of light winked out.

Harry was tired enough that even the novelty of being in a bed with Draco Malfoy couldn't keep him awake.

xx*x*xx

Draco woke up with a jolt when something jabbed into the back of his neck. He nearly jumped out of his skin when an arm dropped over his side, but then a warm body pressed up against him, pulling close as the arm tightened.

Draco blinked in surprise for a moment, disoriented. Who in the name of…?

Potter.

It all came back in a rush and Draco relaxed with a sigh of relief. Harry Potter was in bed with him. Cuddling. Draco debated jabbing an elbow into the Chosen One, but he was willing to wager that Potter was still asleep. He decided to test his theory.

Potter's fingers rested on the bed before Draco, slightly curled and almost touching Draco's chest. Draco covered Potter's hand with his own and squeezed lightly. Instead of ramrod tension, Draco felt lips brush against the back of his neck as Potter snuggled even closer with a mumble of unintelligible words.

Draco almost chuckled out loud, thinking about the potential for blackmail. He sobered instantly when he became aware of something far less amusing than Potter's somnolent affection—Potter's morning erection. It rested prominently against Draco's backside, a barely-there pressure that was less intrusive than Potter's hot breath against his neck, and yet Draco's entire world seemed to narrow to the point of contact.

Draco was in a quandary. He knew he should awaken Potter, rib him with a few sardonic phrases, and get on with their day. But his mind suddenly went back to the kiss they had shared. He had not expected Potter to respond so enthusiastically. If Potter had been Slytherin, Draco would have suspected duplicity, but Potter was the quintessential Gryffindor when it came to his emotions. Draco doubted Potter could fake passion if his life depended upon it.

Potter's lips brushed Draco's neck again and he shifted forward, pushing his cock more firmly against Draco's pyjama-covered arse. Another minute and Potter might begin frotting against him.

Draco felt a rush of heat at the concept. _It would be disturbing and not at all erotic_. His mental admonition apparently failed to reach his cock, which decided to join Potter's in waking up with alacrity. Almost against his will, Draco shifted back minutely, pressing closer to Potter, who made a breathy moaning sound and jerked his hips forward.

Draco's heart nearly stopped. Potter _was_ frotting against him, rubbing his cock over Draco's backside and making Draco's cock harden and beg for attention. Potter's hand left the mattress to slide over Draco's chest, haphazardly touching Draco's skin in a manner that made it obvious Potter was still asleep. Even so, his hand moved lower, drawing ever closer to Draco's waiting cock.

Indecision gripped Draco. Should he let Potter carry on and pretend to be asleep? He was curious to know what Potter would do when he found a hard cock beneath his hand, rather than the girly bits no doubt colouring his dreams. Probably wake up screaming.

The thought had Draco gripping Potter's hand before it moved any lower. Strangely, the brief touch was all it took to awaken Potter. In one breath he went from relaxed to board-tense. _Auror training?_ Draco wondered, _Or just Potter's natural distrust?_

He knew the moment Potter kenned to the reality of their situation.

"Oh, God," Potter said with a groan and then his warmth snatched away as he rolled over and sat up. "God, I'm… loo." With that, Potter bolted through the curtains and was gone.

Draco rolled over and grinned, thinking of the Saviour in the bathroom waiting for his erection to subside before he could urinate. Draco's smile disappeared when he realized he had the same problem. His cock was still hard and beginning to ache from lack of contact. Draco stroked his fingers over it lightly through his pyjama bottoms. He doubted he'd have time for a wank before Potter returned—if Potter returned, although Draco didn't think he'd bolt for Ravenclaw Tower without his Invisibility Cloak, which still lay on the edge of Draco's bed.

Instead, Draco closed his eyes and thought about the last fight he'd had with Astoria, the one where she had taken one of Draco's favourite porcelain antiques and lobbed it at his head. His hastily-cast spell hadn't been hasty enough, and the delicate piece had smashed into the wall, pulverized beyond even magical repair.

It had taken all of Draco's self control not to cast a spell either deadly or maiming. Astoria had known it, and fled. It had been her last night in the Manor.

Draco nodded, satisfied, as his erection deflated under the mental assault. Nothing like the ex-wife to kill sexual desire, even sexual desire for Harry Potter. Just thinking about Potter made his cock twitch and Draco quickly turned his mind to arranging himself casually against the pillows to await the Golden Boy's return. He refrained from smirking, barely, when the bed curtains moved and Potter appeared, looking more like an awkward teen than a grown man and fearless Auror.

"Um, I should go back to…"

"Just get into bed, Potter," Draco said dryly. "It happens to all of us. I won't assume you have a repressed, burning desire for me." Once he'd said the words, they sounded slightly bitter and he made a mental note to examine them in more detail later. He added, "Although it would be perfectly understandable. I am me, after all."

Potter snorted, but he did not look quite so ready to bolt.

"It's Saturday. What are we going to do today? I assume you have some sort of plan laid out? Will we spend the day sneaking around looking for Nott? Shoring up defences? Berating Aurors?"

Potter moved forward and slid back into the bed, staying as far from Draco as possible. He dragged the blankets up quickly with a shiver. "Bloody hell, the dungeons are cold. How did you survive seven years down here?"

"Ice water for blood?" Draco asked dryly.

Potter actually chuckled. "Wouldn't that make you freeze faster? I'd think you'd need warm blood to stay alive."

"My blood has been known to run hot," Draco admitted and for some reason the words sounded more seductive than he'd intended.

Potter coughed and arranged his blankets. "Um. So, today we should… Um. Well, I hadn't really thought about it."

Draco sighed dramatically. "Why am I not surprised?"

Potter glared at him and all was right with the world again.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco grimaced and brushed at his sleeve with a black-gloved hand. The snow had been falling in tiny, delicate flakes when they had left the castle, but now it was coming down in huge clumps and sticking to everything it landed upon, with the exception of the lake.

"Can we go back inside?" Draco asked, feeling tetchy. His nose was getting cold. Warming Charms never quite warmed Draco's extremities. His hands were warm enough in his fur-lined gloves, and his boots were charmed to maintain maximum foot comfort at all times, but his nose always seemed to get cold. And his earlobes. The tips of his ears were covered by a thick cap, but the lobes were probably turning red.

"You're not very helpful," Potter said and Draco's eyes were drawn to Potter's arse as he bent down and brushed snow from his kneecap. Draco had no idea why Potter had felt it necessary to drop to one knee and brush away the snow surrounding a clump of boulders.

"I'm not here to be helpful. I'm here to pretend to be Scorpius while you play Auror and capture the bad guy."

Potter turned on him with an expression that had been growing more annoyed with every passing moment. "I do not 'play' Auror."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course not, your Saviourship. I'm sure you exercise your office with utmost gravity and astringency."

Potter's lips thinned and Draco braced himself for the shouting that was sure to follow, but Potter surprised him by softening his features and then smirking. "Quite right," he said and winked.

Draco flushed, more annoyed at Potter's refusal to fight than seemed warranted. "Why are we out here?" he snapped.

Potter walked a few steps to peer out over the lake. Draco gnashed his teeth, thinking it a damned irritating time to sightsee, but then he realized Potter was carefully scanning the area. Apparently satisfied they were alone, he turned to Draco. "Two reasons. First, to checks the school wards. And second, to draw an attack."

"What?"

"The school wards are failing."

Draco blinked at him. His outburst had been in reference to the word 'attack', but… "The _wards_? What are you talking about?"

Potter brushed at the snow accumulating on his hair. They were going to turn into snowmen if they didn't get under cover. Potter lifted his wand and cast an Umbrella Charm. They were suddenly encased in an invisible bubble that kept the snow from reaching them. Draco watched as it began to collect on top of the dome.

"Dumbledore's enchantments are starting to fade. Frankly, we're surprised they've lasted this long. Most of the spells that protected the school were his, added to those created by the Founders. Some of them we know how to bolster—like the Anti-Disapparition Spells—and some of them we don't. Like the one on that Wardstone there."

Draco looked at the clump of boulders, rapidly disappearing beneath fluffy whiteness. "That's a Wardstone? It looks…"

"The same as any regular boulder, yes," Potter said and grinned at him.

Draco clamped his jaw shut. He hated it when people knew things that he didn't. "Wardstones."

"Yeah, they work on a more mundane level. Ever wonder why the Death Eaters needed your Cabinet to get into the school? Would have been simpler to Levitate over the damned wall, don't you think?"

"Couldn't," Draco replied, not wanting to be reminded of that bloody cabinet and the events that had followed, even though they had turned out mostly all right in the end, thanks to the man in front of him. "Repelling Charms of some sort. The Dark Lout was incensed about them and he could never figure out how to break through. In the end, Professor Snape had to let him in the front gates."

"The Dark Lout? Did you just say Dark _Lout_?" Potter goggled at him.

Draco turned away, almost embarrassed at the memory. "I called him that so many times in my mind it was difficult not to slip and say it aloud. I said it to Bella once and she turned on me like a rabid dog." Draco shuddered at the memory. His aunt had been unhinged and Draco was grateful to Potter for assisting to remove her from his life, as well.

To his surprise, Potter threw back his head and laughed. It was an incongruous sound in the silence of the snowfall, but a good sound, nonetheless. Draco wondered he'd last heard Potter laugh and reasoned it must have been decades, other than a quick snatch of it at the Ministry, caught in passing when Potter was chatting with friends or co-workers. He'd never laughed _with_ Draco, to his recollection.

A smile tugged at Draco's lips when Potter kept laughing. "Dark Lout," Potter said. "Bloody hell, I wish I'd thought of that. It might have been more fun than calling him Tom Riddle."

About to ask, Draco's words were halted by a shout. He turned to see a man dressed in a dark cloak hurrying through the snow, which had passed ankle-deep already.

"Boys!" the man cried.

Draco stepped closer to Potter, just in case. Potter's wand was steady, not quite raised, but not passively dangling at his side, either.

"What are you two doing out here all alone?" the man demanded. "Didn't the Headmistress warn you that you could be in danger?"

"Auror," Potter murmured. "I recognize him."

"Polyjuice?" Draco asked.

"Could be. Stay alert."

"Sorry!" Potter called. "I forgot. The snow was so beautiful we just went for a walk."

Draco edged his wand out for easier casting and hung back near Potter's shoulder to give the Chosen One room to be heroic, if the situation called for it.

"Yeah, well that's just great," the Auror snapped. "Your father will have my head on a plate should anything happen to you."

Draco frowned. The man's concern was wholly for Albus Potter. It was hardly surprising.

"Now hie your arses back into the castle and don't let me catch you out here again without an escort!"

"Yes, Auror, um…?"

"Auror Braun," the man said. "But keep mum on the Auror bit, yeah? I'm supposed to be here as a carpenter for the Yule Celebration. Undercover, remember?"

"I don't think a carpenter would come bumbling into the snow to fetch a couple of kids," Potter commented, sounding disapproving.

"Got that covered," the man said. He reached into his robes and pulled out a long cigar. He held it out, looking sheepish. "Can't smoke around the young un's without incurring the wrath of the Headmistress. She's a feisty one, that Minerva."

"Well, then, _Mister_ Braun, we'll just be going."

"I'll be watching to see you get straight back, Mister Potter."

Potter walked around the man, as tense and wary as a hunting cat, and Draco followed. The man busied himself lighting his cigar with the end of his wand. For an Auror, Draco thought he looked more like a carpenter.

"Ministry's finest?" Draco asked sardonically when they trudged through the snow out of earshot.

Potter's stride was brisk. He shot a look at Draco. "He's not bad. Good for undercover work, since he looks so nondescript."

They were halfway to the castle when Draco stopped short. "We were out here as bait!"

Potter stopped and gave him a puzzled look. "Yeah, of course we were. How else do you plan to draw out Nott? The easier we make it on him to attack us, the quicker we'll be done here."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "While I can understand the logistics, Potter, I would appreciate it if you would inform me of your little plans at some point prior to their enactment. I thought we were out here to discuss an actual strategy instead of just bumbling around attending classes and acting like we're in love."

Potter glared at him. "Yeah, well if you can think of an _actual strategy_ , feel free to trot it out, Malfoy, because I can't think of any options other than waiting for Nott to show his hand. You have a better idea?"

Draco wished he did, just so he could wipe the challenging look from Potter's face. Potter nodded, turned, and kept walking.

"Bloody prat," Draco muttered and followed. He supposed he should catch up to Potter, lest it look like they were fighting again, but it was hard to be pragmatic when he wanted to hex the man.

He caught up to him a few minutes later because Potter had stopped at the top of a small rise.

"What is it?" Draco asked, wondering if Potter had spotted someone.

"It's so beautiful," Potter murmured.

Draco took in the vista, which was turning almost magical with the snow. The open ground was a carpet of pristine white and the trees looked iced with thick frosting. The lake was flat silver, like a mirror reflecting the clouds, and the mountains on the other side of the lake were already pale with snow. The huge flakes fell and the cold, still air lent a hush to the scene. It was, Draco supposed, somewhat magical.

He stepped closer to Potter and then wrapped his arms around the man, pushing his torso tightly against Potter's back. He smiled when Potter stiffened. "What are you—?"

"Students," Draco replied and a group of children appeared from round a clump of snow-topped bushes, walking slowly as if awed by the scenery. One of them raised a hand towards them and Potter returned her tentative wave.

Draco pressed his mouth against Potter's neck, which was cold and wet and… slightly salty.

"Are you tasting me?" Potter asked in a strangled tone.

"You're cold. Why didn't you wear a hat?"

"It wasn't snowing that much when we came out."

Draco thought Potter would resume their walk, but to his surprise, Potter relaxed into his arms and sighed. They stood without moving for some time, watching the younger children try to make snowballs from the powder, only to give up and lob it at each other as if standing in water.

Potter's warmth felt nice. Draco admitted the whole interlude was rather pleasant, with the two of them leaning on one another and not speaking while the snow fell around them. No one paid them any mind and it almost felt like they were in their own peaceful world.

"Albus!" someone yelled and then Rose Weasley was stumbling through the snow towards them, looking so much like Hermione Granger that Draco thought they had slipped back in time somehow. "There you are! You can't hide from me, you prat!"

"What did I do now?" Potter asked.

"You promised to look over my Runes essay today. I realize doing homework is far less pleasant than enjoying the snow with your beloved—hello, Scorpius—but _some_ of us care about our grades."

"Someone's in trouble," Draco said with a chuckle.

"Get me out of this," Potter murmured.

"Sorry, Bludger, but I have need of my boyfriend this afternoon. Feel free to drop off your essay and we'll go over it… later." Draco pressed soft kisses against Potter's neck to punctuate his words, and felt a thrill when Potter's breath caught. One of Potter's hands dropped over Draco's and rested there lightly.

Rose blushed. "Honestly, it's a wonder you two ever get anything done. Fine! I'll drop it by the Slytherin common room." She turned and stalked towards the castle.

"Ro—Bludger!" Potter called after her, "Have you seen Hugo?"

"He's in detention with Louis!" she yelled without stopping.

"Bloody hell," Potter said. "We should, um… probably go in."

Draco made a noncommittal sound of agreement and left one more biting kiss on Potter's neck before releasing him and moving away. They had taken only a few steps before Potter's hand clasped Draco's. Draco looked at him askance.

"They do this, right? Hand-holding, Albus said." Potter's face was pink and Draco doubted much of the colour was due to the cold.

"Yes," Draco replied and linked their fingers together. Potter's hand felt warm even through Draco's gloves.

xx*x*xx

The Front Hall was a frenzy of activity. Hagrid had apparently just hauled in the first annual Christmas tree. The largest tree would not adorn the Great Hall until Christmas Eve, but several smaller trees would be placed in various locations throughout the school. It was hard to tell who was decorating and who was trying to clean up the mess of snow and fir needles amongst the gawkers.

Harry laughed aloud, remembering his first Christmas at Hogwarts with a pang. He glanced at Malfoy, who was staring at the tree with an odd expression. Harry wondered if he was also lost in memories.

"Hard to believe it's been twenty five years," Harry murmured.

"Longer than that since we were their age," Malfoy replied and nodded his chin towards a group of First-years. They looked so tiny—had he and Malfoy really been that small once?

"Feels like no time at all," Harry said.

Malfoy nodded and he threw Harry a sardonic grin. Their eyes locked and Harry squeezed his hand impulsively. Malfoy looked away. Harry turned his attention to the tree and wished Malfoy's hand didn't feel so good in his. He also wished the kisses on his neck hadn't felt so bloody wonderful. Harry had wanted to stand in the snow and let Malfoy molest him for the rest of the day. He mentally kicked himself for the thought. His stupid attraction to Malfoy was simply a result of the stress he'd been under lately, coupled with his complete lack of physical contact for the last… God, he didn't even want to think about how long.

"All right, Filius," Hagrid bellowed. "Do yer magic."

Professor Flitwick waved a hand. "Why don't you give it a try this year, Hagrid?"

Hagrid gaped at him and Harry inhaled sharply. Professor Flitwick only smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"Right, then," Hagrid said and stepped forward. He drew his shoulders back and lifted his wand—a huge length of oak with thestral hair at its core, Harry recalled. Hagrid had been granted the ability to use magic again after the war, even though his umbrella-wand had been snapped in the battle. Purchasing his new wand had been a celebratory affair and Harry had accompanied him to Ollivander's along with Hermione and Ron.

Hagrid cast a spell and a long length of garland spewed from the end of his wand to twist itself around the tree. It was pink.

"Oh, that's not right," Hagrid muttered.

Malfoy snorted and Harry squeezed his hand warningly.

"It's okay, Hagrid," Rose said and stepped forward. She tapped the end of the garland with her wand and it turned bright red. A loud cheer went up from the assembled students.

"She's like a Granger doppelganger," Malfoy said.

"Oh shit," Harry murmured. He had spotted Kyle Nevus leaning against the wall, lazily taking notes.

"What?"

"That reporter. Against the wall there." As if drawn by the words, Nevus looked right at them. He straightened and started towards them.

"Come on," Malfoy said and dragged Harry towards the dungeon entrance. "Better to avoid you opening your mouth and spilling any more secrets."

Harry scowled, but allowed himself to be led at a quick pace, ignoring the reporter's shouts of, "Mr Potter! Wait!"

The Slytherin common room was empty. Malfoy let go of Harry's hand and sprawled on the sofa before the roaring fire. He removed his hat and gloves and spelled them to hang on a rack near the door. Harry took off his outer robes and scarf and hung them on the same rack without benefit of magic. The blue Ravenclaw scarf looked incongruous amid all the green.

Harry knew he should go back out and brave the snow to examine the rest of the school wards, but he was half-frozen and welcomed the chance to warm up. He would return to his task once his fingers stopped feeling like sticks of wood.

"Reporters are vile," Harry said and jumped aside as Malfoy's robes sailed past him to drape themselves over a hook.

Malfoy laughed. "It's hard to believe you never learned how to utilize the press, Potter. Someone of your stature should have them eating out of your hand."

Harry walked back to the sofa and sat down as far from Malfoy as possible. He propped his back against the padded arm and stretched out his legs. The sofa was large enough that his feet were still a good distance from Malfoy. "I never mastered diplomacy, especially after the kids were born. I suppose I should have pandered to the press more. Ginny sometimes berated me about it, but I just wanted them to go away."

"Potter, Potter, Potter," Malfoy said in a sad tone and shook his head. "You should have hired yourself a Public Relations Consultant."

"Is that what you did when you decided to become a litigator for the Ministry?" Harry asked and did not bother to hide his derision.

Malfoy turned to face him, resting one arm on the back of the sofa and turning his body to prop one leg on the cushions, bent at the knee. To Harry's surprise, he wasn't angry. "No, in that instance I was my own consultant, although my mother was supportive. I know the rumours, that I only took the job with the Ministry to further my own career, to restore the Malfoy name, to regain the trappings of respectability, to downplay the Malfoy involvement in the war; the list goes on. The truth is far simpler."

"Which is?" Harry prodded, having firmly believed quite a few of those himself.

"I wanted to punish them all for disrupting my life. I wanted them to pay for invading my home, for causing my mother distress, for forcing me to witness unspeakable horrors, for tearing my parents apart, and for promoting the cause of a no-longer-human madman; I wanted them to _pay_." Malfoy's voice rang with passion and the fire in his eyes turned the grey to something implacable as iron. Old, old memories returned, unbidden: Malfoy Manor looking stark and barren, overrun with Death Eaters and unsavoury sorts, Malfoy watching as the Muggle Studies teacher was murdered above his own dining table, the terror in his eyes when Lucius had demanded to know whether or not Harry Potter lurked beneath a swollen, nearly unrecognizable face.

"I believe you," Harry said quietly.

The common room door swung open and Malfoy launched himself at Harry, landing between his legs and clamping their mouths together. Harry, after a moment of astonishment, shut his eyes and wrapped his arms loosely around Malfoy.

"Ewww, can't you two keep that in your room? Some of us want to keep our lunch down."

Malfoy removed his lips from Harry's and glared at the newcomer. "Sod off, Peters. We were here first."

Harry frowned at the juvenile comment, until he remembered they were supposed to be seventeen years old. He dredged up a memory of Albus insulting James and tried it out. "Hey, Peters, I need to practice Legilimency. Do you know where you left your mind?"

The Slytherin flipped an insulting gesture at him and went to sit in a chair that faced away from them. Peters pulled out his wand and began to cast Transfiguration spells on a footstool.

Malfoy's weight was crushing Harry, but not in a bad way. He smirked at Harry in a manner that was becoming disturbingly attractive.

The door banged open again and Louis Weasley sauntered into the room. He threw himself onto the sofa in the spot Malfoy had vacated. "What's the matter with you two?" Louis asked, giving them a critical stare. "Is this some new thing?"

"What are you talking about, Wea—" Malfoy's derisive tone was smothered by Harry's lips. He decided kissing Malfoy was a fabulous way to shut him up.

"Usually, you are locked away in your room by now. Are you graduating to public sex? If so, let me get a camera, because the photos will be worth a mint at the _Voice_."

The mention of the _Daily Voice_ had Harry tearing his lips from Malfoy's to stare at Louis. "You aren't talking to that horrible reporter, are you?" Harry demanded.

"From the look of today's paper, you did more than enough talking to him," Louis said dryly as he balanced his wand on the end of his finger and whispered a Smoke Charm. A green snake made of smoke puffed from the tip of the wand and coiled around his arm.

Harry flushed and made a mental note to grab a copy of the paper in order to assess the damage.

"Seriously, though, are you guys okay? You seem kind of tense around each other and not nearly as sappy as usual. Oh, piss off, Peters! This is family business!" The green snake dissipated as Louis sliced his wand through it and brandished the wood at Peters, who had craned his neck to watch them. Peters cringed, likely expecting some horrific spell.

Louis laughed. "Just a Muffliato. He can't hear us now. Spill the potion, Albus. Or you, Scorpius. What started this whole strange business and how do we fix it?"

Harry coughed and his arms tightened reflexively around Malfoy. It was true—Harry was incredibly tense with Malfoy lying atop him. Despite the fact that they had shared a few kisses and could fake a believable hand-holding session or two did not mean Harry could relax his guard. It was still Draco Malfoy, for fuck's sake. Acting like a lovesick teen was almost impossible.

Malfoy crawled off him and held out his hand. "Louis is right. We need help."

"What?" Harry yelped.

Malfoy grabbed his wrist and hauled, nearly sending Harry to the floor before he righted himself.

"What sort of help?" Harry demanded before staggering after Malfoy, who dragged him towards the archway that lead to the dorms.

"You'll see," Malfoy said ominously.

Harry paused before allowing Malfoy to tug him away. "Wait! Louis, where is Hugo?"

Louis shrugged and went back to creating smoke creatures. "Pursuing Bonnie Bradfield, of course. I think they were going ice skating."

And then Malfoy yanked and Harry was hauled off to Scorpius' room. Malfoy let go of his wrist the instant the door shut.

"Have you ever done any undercover work?" Malfoy demanded.

Harry glared at him. "Of course."

"Are you crap at it?"

Harry resisted the urge to reach for his wand. No one but Malfoy would ever ask him a question like that. No one else would dare. Harry stared at him a while longer and then turned away to pursue the idea, shook by it without quite knowing why.

"Look, Potter, I know this is hard for you, and you detest me, and actually touching me is almost unbearable, but we have to fucking get through this—"

Harry looked at him again, surprised. "I don't detest you."

"—because if anything… What?"

"I haven't detested you for a long time now."

Malfoy's mouth worked for a moment and he looked astonished. "You haven't… Well, why not?"

Harry laughed. "Only you would be affronted by someone not hating you."

"I am not affronted! I just don't understand you. We've always had this mutual not-like thing going. I accepted it as a universal constant and now you're telling me you don't hate me? When did that stop?"

Harry sat on Scorpius bed. He had never intended to examine the reasoning behind his changed feelings for Malfoy. It hadn't been important before, but perhaps it was now. He dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe it was the Lynden Case."

Malfoy's brow wrinkled. "The Lynden Case? Daniel Lynden, the repetitious murderer?"

Harry nodded. "Serial killer, Muggles call them. I watched you prosecute his case. There wasn't much evidence; he was smart."

Malfoy's gaze unfocussed, as though he sorted through memories. His expression went taut and Harry was sorry he had brought it up. It hadn't been a pleasant case for anyone at the Ministry. "That bastard thought he would slither out of it," Malfoy said. He walked forward and sank down on the bed near Harry, who nodded. Lynden had been one step ahead of the Aurors for over a year, covering his tracks, destroying or hiding evidence. They had barely put the pieces together and kenned to him at all.

"But you did it," Harry said and grinned. "I was there when you made him crack. You shook that smug, ice-cold exterior and had him bloody shouting his confession." The grin turned into a laugh. "Is there anyone you can't annoy to the point of madness?"

Malfoy snorted. "I think you are the only one I ever drove to _actual_ madness."

Harry tried to snort, but it came out as a chuckle.

"But that case made you stop despising me?" Malfoy asked.

"I guess I had to admit you'd grown up. We all had by then, and much more so after sorting through Lynden's handiwork."

He saw Malfoy shudder. "The man was vile."

Harry nodded and they went silent, lost in their memories. Harry had the strange urge to place a comforting hand on Malfoy's knee, so close to his they were nearly touching.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well then, since you don't despise me, this," he waved a hand, "thing we're doing should be easier. If only just. Or is there some other reason you can't pretend to be in love?"

Harry flushed. It suddenly seemed quite a lot warmer in the room. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said with a huff.

"Really? Because you're doing a terrible job. Perhaps you've never been in love."

Harry's head swung round to fix a stare on him. "Of course I have! I have three children!"

Malfoy shrugged. "Doesn't mean anything. I have a son and I despised touching his mother. I certainly didn't love her."

"You didn't love her? Not ever?" Harry was shocked. He had loved Ginny once, and for a long time. He probably still did, except that it had changed from romantic love to something like a shared affection. Lack of love had never been their problem; his career had simply become too much for her. She had been tired of constantly living in fear that Harry would one day not come home, of one too many trips to St Mungos wondering if he would ever wake up. It hadn't been easy, but Harry had accepted it over time.

"I'm a pure-blood, Potter. I married to have a child, not bask in the glow of everlasting love." He drew out the last word in a mockery.

"Then it sounds as if _you_ are the one lacking in the love department."

Malfoy plucked at the edge of his trouser seam. "I was in love once. A long time ago. I remember what it was like."

Harry's throat constricted and he nodded, remembering. "Yeah. Me, too. It's been a while."

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well, now that we've sorted our mutual pathos, perhaps we can work on your wretched acting skills."

Harry glared at him. "My wretched acting skills."

Malfoy nodded. "Yes. We are supposed to be _in love_ and yet you continue to look at me with something that can only be described as wary trepidation or borderline revulsion."

"I do not!"

"You absolutely do. So, let's see it. Hit me with your love face."

"My what?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Your love face, Potter. Pretend that you are in love with me and try to make your face reflect that."

Harry scowled. _Of all the stupid notions_. "Fine." He relaxed his features and then gazed at Malfoy with what he thought should be a "love face". Apparently, it was a dismal failure.

"Now you just look constipated."

"Oh, bloody hell! You look at me, then, if you're so fucking good at this."

Malfoy nodded curtly and then his face softened. His eyes went wide and dark and his lips relaxed into a dreamy, open-mouthed smile that showed just a hint of his white teeth. Harry stared, flabbergasted, as Malfoy's eyes travelled over him, practically glowing with a look that made Harry's fists clench reflexively. Harry felt a stirring in his groin and wondered how the hell he was going to survive Malfoy's _love face_ , and how had anyone in their right mind ever walked away from him if he had looked at them like that?

Malfoy's features shifted back into a smirk of disdain. "You see, Potter? Even you should be able to manage something so simple."

Oh yes, that had to be why Malfoy was unattached. The supercilious attitude and annoying sarcasm.

"All right, fine." Harry nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeled himself, and then stared at Malfoy. This time he imagined Malfoy as a lovely plate filled with treacle tart, swimming with cream that was vaguely the colour of Malfoy's creamy skin. The vision of treacle faded, replaced by Malfoy's lips. Harry stared at them because they were a thing of beauty; his mouth was a perfect rose-pink bow with an indentation above his top lip that begged to be kissed. And he definitely knew how to kiss, Harry recalled. Harry could probably kiss that mouth for hours on end without getting bored with it.

"Fuck, Potter," Malfoy breathed and the lips Harry fixated on moved with the words, pressing together for a moment before parting once more. Entranced, Harry leaned forwards and tasted them.

Harry's tongue followed Malfoy's sharply indrawn breath, and then they were kissing, gently at first, and then with more determination. At first Harry thought it was another competition, that Malfoy was trying to prove a point, but even that notion was quickly swept away when Malfoy's tongue traced over his, sending flickers of delight tingling through him. Of their own accord, his hands lifted to Malfoy's face, touching lightly, and then moving to his neck and then to his so-soft hair.

Malfoy moaned at the touch and Harry filed it away as a _like_. It seemed Malfoy was seeking his own _likes_ , because his hands were also moving, one on Harry's shoulder and the other dropping to his thigh. Harry shifted, subtly encouraging more even as he shoved away all rational thought.

Malfoy's hand paused for a moment—reconsidering?—and then slowly travelled upward, gently brushing over Harry's thigh. His fingers touched Harry's crotch, tracing the contours of Harry's partial erection until it grew fully hard and aching.

Harry panted against Malfoy's lips, questions half-formed nearly spilling forth, but each time they were forced back by Malfoy's stabbing tongue. Malfoy's hand pressed harder, stroking in earnest, and Harry thought it only fair to reciprocate. He removed one hand from Malfoy's hair and moved it down over his back, ribs, and hipbone before seeking an answer to his unspoken question.

Malfoy was just as hard, and touching his cock was much more interesting than Harry expected, especially when each motion of his fingers earned a quiver from Malfoy and an answering press of his hand against Harry's aching erection.

There were too many clothes between them. Harry tugged at the waistband of Malfoy's trousers. Malfoy seemed to think it a good idea and he did the same to Harry's. It was the work of moments before Harry's hand slipped past Malfoy's pants to wrap around his cock. Simultaneously, he felt Malfoy's fingers, strong and sure, gripping his and it felt incredible. So much better than wanking, which had been Harry's only form of release for far too long.

They kissed and panted as they stroked each other awkwardly. The angle was far from perfect, but neither seemed willing to move and break the spell. Malfoy's hand dragging over Harry's cock was brilliant, and he seemed to know just when to skate his fingertips across the tip. Harry tried to mimic his motions and not concentrate solely on his own pleasure, but it was damned difficult.

Voices sounded outside the door, freezing them in place. Harry met Malfoy's grey eyes for a shocked moment and then he took his other hand from Malfoy's hair and waved it towards the door with a muttered, " _Colloportus_!"

A thud sounded and then a muffled curse as the spell thwarted entry.

"Wandless magic. Impressive," Malfoy murmured before his eyes slid shut and he kissed Harry again.

Harry's reply was lost in his lips and soon everything else was lost in a haze of pleasure, until he felt Malfoy quiver and wet heat spurted over his fingers, followed almost simultaneously by his own orgasm. Harry rode out the blissful sensation, made all the better by Malfoy panting hotly against his cheek.

Reality intruded all too soon as clarity returned. Harry felt the bludgeon of awkwardness almost immediately. Bloody hell, he had just given Malfoy a hand job. Malfoy cleared his throat and started to pull away, but Harry gripped the back of his head and pulled him into one more kiss before growling, "Not one bloody word."

He let go and drew back to glare into Malfoy's speculative gaze. Malfoy swallowed and nodded curtly before seeking his wand and casting a quick Cleaning Charm. Harry did the same as he got to his feet and adjusted his clothing. His thoughts were racing although they achieved no coherency.

"I think I'll go check the rest of the wards," Harry said.

"All right," Malfoy replied.

He said nothing more as Harry fled.

~TBC~ :D


	7. Chapter 7

Draco watched him leave and then flopped back onto the bed with a groan. Bloody hell, what had he just done? Fucking Potter and his fucking _love face_ followed by his fucking incredible kissing ability and his _hands_ … Draco threw an arm over his eyes, as if to block his memory as well as the light. And his fucking wandless magic that had made Draco's toes curl with lust. Dammit, why did he have such a weakness for power? And why had Potter always been the embodiment of that desire? He could admit it now, after that episode.

The episode that would probably have Potter acting like a spooked Hufflepuff for the rest of forever. Draco should have called off the game; he had only been trying to bait Potter at first, which was more of a habit than anything.

The door opened tentatively and one of Scorpius' dorm-mates entered. Draco couldn't be arsed to remember his name. The boy crossed quickly to his trunk and began to sort through it, so Draco got to his feet and left the room, trying not to wonder how often Scorpius locked the others out of the room while he entertained Albus Potter. He could hardly sneer at it, now that he had behaved so inappropriately with the boy's father.

He took a steadying breath and tried to shake it off. Right, then, he would just have to pretend it was nothing. Potter would want to forget it completely and Draco would be fine with that. The alternative was laughable. Their sons were already front page news, thanks to Potter's stupidity. To disclose any sort of doings between him and Potter would be ridiculousness of epic proportion.

Draco took his cloak, scarf, and gloves from the rack and then went to locate Potter. It was a harder task than he imagined. Draco wandered the snowy grounds of Hogwarts for what seemed like an hour. Finally he scowled and looked at the silver bracelet on his wrist. Potter had neglected to tell him how to activate the spell, but knowing Granger there were only a few options. Draco's third attempt was successful.

 _Where are you?_ spelled out upon his bracelet before vanishing. After a moment, the silver grew almost too warm to bear and a single word appeared. _Overlook_.

Draco turned and fixed his gaze upon a high outcropping surrounded by trees at the edge of the forest. It afforded a spectacular view of the Hogwarts grounds. He sighed. It was also a very difficult climb in the snow. It figured Potter would choose an annoying place to hide. He shook off his irritation and began to walk.

Twenty minutes later, favouring a bruised shin left by a skid and an encounter with a snow-covered boulder, Draco reached the place where Potter lounged against a tree trunk, sheltered from the still-falling snow by overhanging branches and a possible Charm.

Draco threw him a murderous glare and Potter gnawed his lip before looking pointedly out over the white vista. He said nothing. Draco trudged over to stand near him. He took in the same view for a minute. Hogwarts looked like a holiday postcard, windows gleaming golden through the falling snow, with smoke curling from multiple chimneys and turreted roofs covered in white.

Finally Draco sighed and turned to Potter. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lips were suddenly covered by Potter's fingers. Potter's gaze was intense and he moved like a shadow, swift and silent, to push Draco back against the trunk of the tree and fit himself to Draco's front as though he belonged there. Potter's fingers fell away from Draco's lips and were replaced by Potter's mouth, cold on the outside, but so very warm inside.

Draco surrendered willingly enough, with a bemused _Gryffindors_ ghosting through his thoughts as his gloved hands gripped Potter's hips. Potter's hands were on Draco's shoulders, holding with just enough pressure that Draco could easily break free if he so chose.

Potter kissed him thoroughly and then pulled away, looking determined. "I'm not sorry," Potter announced. "I don't know what this is and I've no idea what you feel at all, but I'm not sorry and I like kissing you, and what we did back there was amazing and _completely_ ridiculous, and I've been sitting here trying to force it all to make sense and then I see you and all I want to do is touch you again and—"

Draco leaned forward and kissed him to shut him up, but he felt like laughing aloud. It _was_ ridiculous, but he let go of Potter's hips to wrap his arms around the git and pull him closer. Potter's reaction could only be attributed to Gryffindor stupidity, but at the moment he wasn't complaining.

Much later and very thoroughly snogged—to the point where another handjob was starting to seem like a good idea, despite the cold—they decided to return to the castle. They walked hand in hand, as befitted their alter-egos, and Draco had to laugh at the incongruity of the reality. He and Potter—who would have guessed?

"Nott," Potter said as they walked. "If he is going to strike at Hogwarts, he should be here by now. I need to find Hugo once we get back."

"What does Hugo have to do with your obsessive ward-checking?" Draco asked.

"I think Hugo has something that will help us find Nott. And the ward-checking is because I promised Minerva I would do it. As weak as the wards are now, Nott could have walked straight through the forest and onto school grounds. The Aurors are checking all the visitors brought by the damned Yule Celebration, but that means nothing if anyone at all can stroll onto the grounds without a twinge in the protection spells."

"You think Nott is already here?"

"I'm afraid if he is that we won't be able to tell," Potter admitted. "Not without some help."

Draco refrained from snorting aloud, but it was a near thing. Who could possibly help? The Aurors? Draco had little faith in their abilities. "I am beginning to doubt this plan. Look, we've been out here on our own for an hour." Draco swept his hand out to indicate the wide open space they walked through. "No one has tried to kidnap us."

"We didn't exactly tell anyone where we were going."

"Do we need to start announcing our every movement?" Draco snapped.

"It probably wouldn't hurt. Even if Nott is Polyjuiced as another student, he would need a reason to follow us around without appearing suspicious."

"I am going to Floo-call Scorpius when I get back, just to reassure myself that we are doing this simply to make ourselves look like fools. And also because the Auror Department is inept and can't catch a simple criminal without using ridiculous methods."

Potter squeezed his hand, surprisingly unaffected by Draco's criticism. "Do you think we look foolish?"

"Completely," Draco replied

Potter stepped in front of Draco and tugged him closer by their linked hands, only to lean in and press a kiss to his lips. "How about now?" Potter asked, breath fogging in the dropping temperature.

Draco ignored him in favour of more kissing.

Potter used dinner in the Great Hall as a chance to surreptitiously study everyone in attendance. He was surprisingly good at it, Draco noticed. Potter would lift a glass of pumpkin juice and scan one section of the room with a sharp gaze that seemed nothing but bored.

Draco did the same, utilizing years of Malfoy training to study each face, searching for anyone giving them more than casual notice. Unfortunately, a large number of people not only noticed them, but were actively staring and whispering.

"Aren't they used to us by now?" Draco asked dryly when a group of Hufflepuff girls walked by, looked directly at them, and then giggled and waved before huddling together and whispering to each other.

"You were never celebrities before," Louis commented. "On a national scale, I mean."

"A national scale?" Potter asked.

Louis retrieved a newspaper from the hands of a boy a couple of seats down—they were all seated at the Slytherin table—and set it on the table before Draco. The front page headline screamed, "FAMOUS BOYS IN LOVE." The photo was amazing—a shot of Albus and Scorpius wrapped around each other while sitting on a low stone wall, leaning in towards each other for a kiss before the motion stopped and repeated. The photo had obviously been taken some time previously—the grass was green and trees thick with leaves.

"One of their friends sold them out," Draco murmured.

" _Our_ friends," Potter reminded him with a nudge.

Draco tipped the paper and looked at it critically. "I don't know; it doesn't look like us."

Potter nearly choked on his juice. Draco folded the _Daily Voice_ and tucked it into his robe pocket.

"I'm going to go talk to Cho," Potter murmured against his ear, leaning close as if to nuzzle his neck. And then he nuzzled Draco's neck anyway, earning a sigh of pleasure.

"Be sure to mention that her Aurors are useless," Draco said, leaning into him.

"Not this one, I hope," Potter replied.

"Well, I may have a use for you later," Draco said. "I will evaluate your competence at that time."

Potter chuckled and Draco decided that was a sound he could get used to hearing regularly. "I'm using the cloak so won't be obvious I'm going to Minerva's office. If you see Hugo Weasley, tell him I need to see him. It's urgent."

"Yes, your Saviourship."

Potter got up and went out; Draco had no problem following the sway of his body as he left. It was expected, after all

Draco finished eating without seeing Hugo Weasley, who was probably gadding about with the girl he'd been pursuing. Draco wasn't arsed to go and find Hugo, since Potter hadn't bothered to tell him what was so bloody urgent about speaking to the boy. Instead he headed for the Slytherin dungeon where he threw himself on the bed and pulled out the copy of the Daily Voice. He read the entire article, got to his feet, and went to find Potter.

Draco didn't have an invisibility cloak to hide beneath, so he gave up any pretence of subtlety and walked straight to the Headmistress' office. An Auror was stationed outside her door. Draco recognized him from a Ministry function where he had worn a chicken hat, after which he and Pansy referred to him as "Cockhead". So much so that Draco could no longer recall the man's actual name.

"What is your business with the Headmistress?" Cockhead asked.

"Are we under Ministry control now?' Draco asked in his best Scorpius impression. He felt a vague sense of pride—Scorpius could be very condescending when he chose. The boy had learned well.

"We are tightening security for the Yule Celebration," the man said gruffly.

"Whatever," Draco said, affecting an air of teenage boredom. "I need to send a message to my father, but he told me not to use owls because of this whole situation that you might now be aware of." He stared pointedly at Cockhead, suggesting he was not high-ranked enough to be in the know.

"I am aware of the _situation_ , Mister Malfoy. I need to check you for Polyjuice before you can go up." The man pulled out his wand and Draco held his breath while he cast a series of spells. The magic wafted over him, but Changeling Charm held without disclosure. The man nodded and stepped aside. "The password is 'harpies' and it will be changed once you leave. You can go."

Draco rolled his eyes at the man, spoke the password, and ascended. He wondered how Potter had got past him, even with the cloak.

McGonagall was seated at her desk, alone. Draco frowned, and then the air near the fireplace rippled and Potter's tousled head appeared. "Geez, Malfoy, thanks for the warning."

He rolled his eyes. "Sorry, your Mightyness, I will send a calling card in advance next time." He thrust the paper at Potter. "Read this."

Potter wrinkled his nose. "No, thank you. I can imagine what sort of spin Nevus put on my outburst."

Draco heaved a put-upon sigh and pointed to the last paragraph of the article. "Somehow I doubt you mentioned the current location of your ex wife."

Potter snatched the Daily Voice and read it quickly. "Fuck! Sorry, Minerva. 'Harry Potter refuses to speak with our correspondents and Ginevra Potter is currently in Cordova...' How do they know that?" Potter turned and knelt before the fire with a handful of powder. "Minister Cho Chang!"

Chang's face appeared in the flames, looking less than pleased. "Harry, please, I already told you—"

Potter held up the paper angrily. "The Daily Voice reported that Ginny is in Cordova! We have to warn her, send a team—!"

"Ginny is no longer in Cordova."

"I'll have to leave here and—what?"

"My contacts at the paper informed me about the headline before it went to print. I contacted Ginny and Neville and they moved quickly, already having a contingency plan in place. Lily is with them and everyone is fine."

Potter deflated a bit. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"To avoid this very outburst, Auror Potter. Now, I would like to get back to my paperwork, if you don't mind."

Potter broke the connection and sat back with a frown. "Who knew where Ginny was?" he muttered to himself, loud enough that Draco heard. Potter stood up, invisibility cloak draped partially over himself, which made him look bizarrely half-there. He began to pace, deep in thought, and Draco glanced at McGonagall. Potter was in Auror mode.

"There are always people willing to divulge secrets for a price, Potter. Or a threat."

"Or a drink," added McGonagall as she shuffled papers on her desk and broke the seal on a rolled up parchment. "Are you doing anything festive for the holidays, Mr Malfoy?"

"Spending them alone with Scorpius, as always," Draco replied.

Potter paused and then looked at Draco. "You could come over on Christmas. And, um… bring Scorpius. I'm sure Albus would be ecstatic. Ginny has the kids on Christmas Eve but they'll be over for dinner on Christmas day and—"

"Potter, you're babbling," Draco commented. McGonagall had paused in her paper-moving to look at them with a gaze that had proven to miss very little.

Potter blushed and tugged at his hair.

"There has been speculation about the Hogwarts wards set by the Founders," McGonagall said in a strangely casual tone. Her quill scratched on a piece of parchment without pause. "Some believe that Rowena Ravenclaw was in a relationship with Godric Gryffindor at the time."

Draco drew in a surprised breath and stared hard at the Headmistress, who smiled enigmatically and nodded.

Potter's brow wrinkled. "What difference does that make?"

Draco said quickly, "I think I'll go back to the dorm. Goodnight, Headmistress." Let McGonagall explain it to Potter, if he had made it this far in life without acquiring that bit of information.

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Me, too. Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Harry. Try not to worry. We are all doing the best we can."

xx*x*xx

Harry wrapped himself in his cloak and followed Malfoy, sticking close to disguise the opening of the doorway.

"Have a nice evening," Malfoy called to the Auror stationed near the exit. His voice rang with such insincerity that the man gave him a two-fingered salute. "Cockhead," Malfoy muttered when they were out of earshot.

"Peterson doesn't seem to like you any better as Scorpius than he does as yourself," Harry commented.

"Peterson. That's right," Malfoy said nonsensically.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked and pulled him down the hallway. "That bit about Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor?"

"I'll tell you later. Learn anything new from Chang?" Malfoy asked when they reached the first set of stairs.

"No," Harry said. "But I'll go out tomorrow and attempt to shore up the wards. Again."

"It's like the blind leading the blind."

"Shut it, you. The spells are complicated. I'm not sure I'll even be able to manage them."

Malfoy snorted. "You will."

Harry stopped short and pulled the cloak away from his head with a grin. "That could be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't let it go to your head," Malfoy replied.

Harry pulled him into a kiss. It seemed like the right thing to do. Malfoy must have agreed, because he made no protest and then backed Harry into the nearest wall, narrowly missing a suit of armour that shuffled aside with a clang.

"Mmmf, we need to talk about this new habit of yours," Harry said, even though he wasn't sure he minded the rough stone at his back as long as Malfoy's warmth was pressed against his front.

"Maybe I just don't want you to run away," Malfoy murmured between long, slow kisses. His fingers teased at Harry, shoving the cloak aside as he fumbled to put his hands beneath Harry's clothing.

"Not much chance of that," Harry replied and pulled him closer. "Now, how about you enlighten me? It's later."

"Why, Auror Potter, are you trying to seduce the information out of me?" Malfoy's voice was seductive and his hands were warm on Harry's skin.

"No. I'm just asking. The seduction is separate."

Malfoy chuckled and moved his mouth from Harry's only to attach it to his neck, kissing and nibbling in between words. "Well, it's fairly well documented that emotions can increase the power of certain spells."

Harry made a noncommittal sound of agreement. He was losing his ability to care about Malfoy's words.

"One reason the wards are so strong is because emotions are never as strong as when they are... aroused."

"Sex magic," Harry managed, even though Malfoy's hands were seeking places that would make coherent speech a lost cause.

"Laymen's terms. The correct terminology is the Eros Effect. Erotic enhancement."

"You should have been the Ravenclaw," Harry said and bucked into Malfoy's palm with a groan.

"Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter," a voice said, causing Malfoy to draw back with a jolt. They both turned to see Professor Flitwick approaching. "Out of your beds, wandering the halls after hours?"

Malfoy moved away and Harry straightened with a guilty cough at having been caught in such a compromising situation. He hoped his arousal wasn't visible in the darkness. As he stood, the invisibility cloak slithered to the floor behind him.

Flitwick's wand was in his hand, as though he planned to hex them if they chose to run. Before any of them could speak, footsteps sounded and Filch hurried up to them, looking pleased. "Students out of bed? Planning to punish them, Filius? At least a Stinging Hex or two, maybe?"

Flitwick sighed and tucked his wand into his robes. "Argus, honestly. Twenty points from both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, plus you both have detention. Meet me in the Charms Classroom tomorrow morning at seven o'clock and we will discuss additional preparations for the Yule Celebration. Flitwick sounded smug.

"Seven o'clock?" Malfoy burst out.

"That's fine, Professor," Harry said quickly before Malfoy got them into even more trouble. "Thank you, Professor." He reached down and snagged the edge of his cloak before gripping Malfoy's elbow and leading him quickly towards the steps. "Goodnight!"

"Not even a small Stinging Hex?" Filch argued behind them.

"Argus, sometimes I am very glad you are incapable of casting spells," Flitwick replied and Harry fervently agreed.

"Creepy old bastard," Malfoy muttered.

"Filch will never change," Harry said.

"I meant Flitwick."

Harry laughed and gave him a shove. He took off towards the Slytherin dungeon, feeling like a teenager again as Malfoy growled and gave chase.

xx*x*xx

Harry felt somewhat nervous as they entered the dark Slytherin common room. Only one student was visible, sprawled on the sofa with his book open on the floor. He looked to have fallen asleep while studying.

Malfoy led the way to Scorpius' dorm. One of the boys was awake, tinkering with some small object in the centre of his bed, but he only gave them a nod before returning his concentration to the item.

Malfoy drew aside the bed curtains and gestured grandly at Harry, who stepped up to the bed and watched as the curtains fell, plunging them into near darkness but for the usual central glow.

"Handy spell," Harry commented with an absent wave upward.

Malfoy replied quietly, "Scorpius was afraid of the dark as a child. I taught him how to conjure the Glow at an early age. It surprised me to find that he still uses it."

"It's pretty," Harry said inanely, feeling very nervous.

Malfoy stepped towards him and slipped his arms around Harry's waist. "Do you plan to escape, Potter? Because now might be your only chance."

The hint of challenge steadied Harry. "Should I want to escape? Because I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be at the moment," he replied.

"Silencing Charm!" the dorm-mate called loudly.

Harry chuckled and cast it with barely a thought.

"It really turns me on when you do that," Malfoy said and nibbled at Harry's neck.

"When I cast _Silencio_?"

"No, when you cast as though it's the most natural thing in the world. Without effort."

"Oh." Harry flushed. "Well, it's just…" He gave up trying to find a response and just kissed whatever uncovered parts of Malfoy he could reach. Luckily, that soon became quite a few parts.

xx*x*xx

Malfoy's mouth made a wet path down Harry's torso, pulling at the fine hairs below Harry's navel with his lips. Harry could hardly breathe, knowing where Malfoy was headed. He'd had blowjobs before but this was so… different. It felt almost like his first time.

When Malfoy's lips touched his cock, accompanied by an intense stare, Harry's toes curled. He was glad he had braced his hands on the bed because a moment later, Malfoy took him in completely. It was no tentative, gentle action. Malfoy seemed to know exactly where to lap with his tongue and how hard to squeeze with his hands. It was brilliant.

Harry panted and his hand fluttered up to rest on Malfoy's bobbing head. Already, he felt the tingling rush of impending orgasm. Malfoy was amazing, it was true, but it had also been a very long time since anyone had sucked Harry's cock. He had nearly forgotten how blissful it was.

Malfoy's tongue teased at the head and wrapped around it once more before sucking hard and taking him deep. With a cry of warning, Harry came. To his surprise, Malfoy did not pull away, but instead took all of it and swallowed before licking his twitching cock clean. His other hand stroked gently at Harry's thigh, also unexpected.

As Harry's quivers subsided, Malfoy rose and moved forward, fitting himself between Harry's legs. His cock was prominently displayed and for a moment Harry thought Malfoy meant to fuck him—which was surprisingly more erotic than terror-inducing—but Malfoy only wrapped his fingers around his erection and stroked slowly. Harry got it then, and reached down to assist.

Since Harry's wandless magic was an apparent turn-on for Malfoy, Harry cast a wandless lubrication spell. Their hands on Malfoy's cock sped up with the slick addition and Malfoy hissed and then grunted his approval. His reddened lips curved in a smile.

They stroked in unison, Harry feeling awkward because on the angle. It should have been like wanking, because Malfoy's cock was just above his own, but the vein was on the opposite side. Palming the head was nearly the same, though, and Malfoy wasn't complaining, based on his gasps and the way he threw his head back. The sight was riveting and Harry nearly missed it when Malfoy shuddered and a new wetness coated Harry's hand. He looked down and moved his hand aside to allow the last few drops of Malfoy's come to spurt over his abdomen.

Harry continued to stroke until Malfoy's hand covered his and halted the movement. Harry met Malfoy's eyes and then moved his other hand to trail his fingers through the release and smear it over his skin.

Malfoy collapsed on him with a chuckle. "Bloody hell, I can't believe I want you again already. Did Chang put something extra in this spell that induces insanity?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked, feeling languid and happy.

Malfoy made a noncommittal noise against Harry's throat. "I suppose not."

Harry's hands trailed over his back. Nearly as good as the sex was the pleasure of simply touching another person so intimately. He searched for sensitive places, curling his fingers over curves and ridges.

"Stop that," Malfoy said after a bit. "We have to rise at ridiculous o'-clock, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?"

"Yes, you and your inability to keep your hands off me."

"That could be considered your fault."

He felt Malfoy's smirk against his neck. "Just go to sleep, Potter."

Holding him closely, Harry did.

~TBC~


	8. Chapter 8

Draco hated mornings. He could pretend to love them when it suited him, usually when appearing before the Wizengamot for the rare early-morning case. On those days it suited him to appear gloriously happy and perfectly put together if only to cause other non-morning people to glower at him in disgust. In actuality, waking before ten o' clock in the morning made him want to Crucio people.

"Come on, Malfoy," Potter said for the fourth time. "We're going to be late and then we will really be in trouble."

"You're the bloody Chosen One," Draco mumbled and scooted his entire body downwards a bit, snuggling more deeply into the warm covers. "Can't you get Flitwick to postpone the damned detention?"

"I'm not the Chosen One at the moment." The blankets were tugged away from Draco's face and then a hand pressed against his cheek. Draco opened his eyes to see Potter staring at him with a strange look on his face, one that spoke curiously of something like _fondness_. It made Draco's stomach twist. Potter's thumb stroked over the edge of his jaw.

Draco sighed in contentment and closed his eyes again.

Potter's hand left his face and then the blankets were torn away, letting a blast of dungeon-cold air waft over Draco. "Potter, you arse!" Draco yelped.

Potter jumped forward and pressed a hand over Draco's mouth with a chuckle. "Hush! You'll wake up everyone!"

Draco bit at his hand, which wisely moved away. He growled, "If I have to be awake, the rest of them can bloody well be, too."

"Stop being petulant and get up. Will it help if we stop for some tea on the way?"

"It will help if you go fetch me some tea right now," Draco suggested, reaching for the blankets as Potter tugged them farther out of his reach.

"No, because you will curl right back up and go to sleep. Now get dressed."

Draco glared at him, because Potter shouldn't know him that well after only a couple of days spent together, despite years of acquaintanceship. "I will not."

"You will not go back to sleep or you will not get dressed?"

"Prat," Draco muttered, but he sat up and swung his legs off the bed in defeat. "Is there some genetic mutation that makes all Gryffindors annoyingly cheerful in the morning?"

"The prospect of annoying Slytherins makes rising at dawn strangely bearable," Potter replied.

Draco reached for his wand with a vengeful expression and Potter laughed and danced away. "I'll wait for you in the common room. Don't make me come back for you." His warning sounded hollow and Draco doubted Potter would do anything at all to him should he crawl back into bed and return to slumber, but he was already up now and he knew sleep would elude him. And he supposed he did not want Scorpius in more trouble for missing a morning of detention.

True to his word, Potter had them stop by the kitchens for a bracing cup of tea and a couple of pastries offered up by adoring house-elves, whose memories of Potter's heroics seemed undiminished with the passing of time. Draco rolled his eyes and smirked at Potter's obvious embarrassment at each gush of praise from the creatures. Draco had always thought of Potter as an attention-seeker, but after years of watching the man dodge the press at every opportunity he had finally been forced to change his opinion.

They drank their tea and then walked to the Charms Classroom. Thanks to Potter, they arrived five minutes early. Flitwick was already in attendance. He waved them inside. "There you are, boys. Excellent. Very punctual. An excellent quality."

Draco sighed and gazed curiously around the room. It looked somewhat as if a seasonal shop had exploded inside. Garland and tinsel and evergreen boughs of every sort covered every available surface. The desks had been pushed against the walls as though in preparation for practicing Charms that required additional space. They were stacked high with brightly wrapped packages, candy-striped pillars, and gleaming candelabras. A large cabinet stood prominently against one wall, laden with an assortment of wreaths. One of them fluttered with live birds.

"What will we be doing?" Draco asked as he wondered how long Flitwick planned to keep them. He knew Potter was itching to get back to ward-checking and Nott-hunting.

"Well, Mr Malfoy, I know that you have chosen most of the decorations for the Yule Celebration already, thank you for that. However, since most of the guests will be arriving on the Hogwarts Express, we will need to decorate the carriages, as well. We are expecting a rather large number, so I think we should plan on twenty sets of decorations, to be safe. You boys may set them out however you choose."

Flitwick beckoned to them. Draco gave Potter a look to let him know he would rather be in bed, and then followed along as Potter gave him a helpless shrug. Flitwick walked along the rows of desks and pointed out materials. "Here is your standard pine, next we have fir and holly, watch the thorns, we mustn't have our guests complaining of scratches, and here we have some eucalyptus. Not particularly festive, but pungent and it adds a different colour choice."

The next few tables were piled high with every sort of ribbon imaginable, from golden thread as thin as spider web to red velvet as wide as Draco's head. Fairy lights followed and Flitwick led them through a meandering pathway of light-bedecked arbours. Against his will, Draco began to feel somewhat festive at the barrage of holiday cheer. The emotion was heightened by the jangle of chimes playing a Christmas carol in unison.

The pathway of twinkling archways led to a romantic-looking gazebo and Flitwick paused at the base of the steps to gesture them up with a quirky grin. Potter willingly trotted up and stood in the centre of the wooden structure. He turned and smiled at Draco, who felt suddenly suspicious, but joined Potter anyway before looking up at the wooden ceiling. He supposed he should have guessed.

"The gazebo can't be used for carriage decorations, boys, but you might consider the judicious use of mistletoe for the more romantic-minded." Flitwick turned away and added, "Feel free to test it out. Judging by your embrace yesterday and the article in the Daily Voice, you two are once again Hogwarts most famous couple, correct?"

Draco made to move away, annoyed that even the bloody teachers expected then to snog at every available opportunity, but Potter caught his hand.

"Hey," he said. "We can't waste mistletoe. It's bad luck."

Draco was about to reply that it was certainly not bad luck, but he had to admit Potter looked ridiculously handsome with the fairy lights gleaming off his hair and a half-smile cocking those stupidly talented lips… He glanced at Flitwick, who seemed to be busy twining another length of star-shaped lights around the stair railing. Perhaps one kiss wouldn't hurt.

He stepped closer to Potter and leaned forward, expecting a quick peck, but the moment their lips touched Draco was swept away. He'd found kissing Potter to be quite an experience, but this seemed particularly… unusual. His hands caught at Potter as weakness swept through him, registering as out of the ordinary only at the last moment. He tried to pull away, seeking escape, but only managed to fall… and fall… and fall into blackness.

xx*x*xx

Harry opened his eyes, knowing instinctively that something was wrong. His Auror instincts were attuned enough for that, at least. His vision was fuzzy; everything blurred into unrecognizable blots of colour.

His cheek hurt, along with many other parts. He was lying on a hard surface, probably a floor, judging by the coldness. He tried to move, but only managed a twitch that sent a spasm of pain coursing through his body. He listened intently and heard bells playing a jaunty holiday song. Still in the Charms Classroom, then?

What had happened? He had been kissing Malfoy, stupidly letting his guard down, blinded by desire and the strange newness of exploring something completely unexpected.

Harry heard footsteps and tried to focus, tried to move. A figure gradually came into his sight—Professor Flitwick. His face grew clearer as he knelt down to look at Harry. Flitwick made a clucking sound. "Albus Potter. I had expected a bit more from the son of the great Harry Potter, especially considering how closely you resemble him. It was almost too easy."

Harry tried to speak and managed only a weak croak.

"Concerned about your beloved Malfoy?" Flitwick—or Alcott Nott—asked. Harry cursed himself for not casting a Polyjuice Detection Charm on _everyone_ , even though the staff was supposed to have been checked as thoroughly as anyone. "Fear not, I will take you to him."

A spell caught Harry— _Locomotor Mortis_ —and he felt himself lifted to float along, swivelling until he achieved an upright state. His vision began to clear and by narrowing his eyes he saw they were headed towards the wreath-bedecked cabinet. His vision was out of sorts because his glasses were gone. He wondered if the false Flitwick had found them.

The door to the cabinet was open. "In you go," Nott said, his voice still sounding as cheerful as Flitwick's. Harry thought back to the last couple of days and wondered how long Nott had been masquerading as the Charms Professor. The interior of the cabinet was dark and smelled of pine. Nott pushed in behind him and closed the door. There was a dizzying sensation and then the door opened again.

"Vanishing Cabinet," Nott explained as he stepped out and spelled Harry to float after him. Harry looked around frantically, glad to note it was getting easier for him to move. Whatever spell he had been hit with initially seemed to be wearing off. Not that it would do him any good without his wand. He knew by the weight that it no longer rested in his robe pocket. He wondered if it had changed in appearance from Al's wand to his own when Nott had taken it. Surely it would have made Nott suspicious?

All of that flittered through Harry's mind to cover his foremost worry. Where was Malfoy?

"Interestingly enough, it was your loverboy's father who gave me the idea. I remember when Draco was charged with the mission to kill Dumbledore. We all joked about it at the time, although not in Lucius Malfoy's hearing, naturally. Lucius was half-mad by then, desperate to get back into the Dark Lord's good graces, but he still refused to hear a bad word about his stupid, doomed son. And then Draco surprised us all by repairing the Vanishing Cabinet and making Hogwarts accessible. Of course, old Dumbledore's death didn't mean much in the long run, not with Harry Potter still around. And Draco went turncoat immediately after the war. Fucking blood traitor!" Nott's voice was changing, becoming hoarser and far less cheerful.

Harry flexed his fingers as he floated across a dark room. A spindly candelabrum held a group of squat candles that spilled light in a meagre diameter. The light revealed a body hanging limply from a wooden pillar, wrists chained above his head. A shock of familiar blond hair gave Harry a rush of both relief and dismay.

"What did you do to him?" Harry asked, forming the words with difficulty. They were barely audible.

"Such concern. You should worry more about yourself, Mr Potter."

Harry felt rough wood against his back as a flick of Nott's wand sent him thudding against a second pillar. He struggled as another spell caused his hands to rise, but he was too weak to prevent metal shackles from fastening around his wrists.

As Flitwick's diminutive form strode away from Harry, it elongated and filled out. Clothing seams tore and bits of cloth fell away, leaving Alcott Nott dressed only in a pair of dark undershorts. He picked up a length of folded material from the table and shrugged it on. "Poor Filius. I never got used to his wretched lack of height."

Harry felt a pang of guilt. In his concern over Malfoy, he hadn't once thought about Professor Flitwick. Even now he stared at the blond head, hoping that Nott hadn't already done something horrific. Harry thought he saw a twitch and then Malfoy's tongue touched his bottom lip before his mouth thinned. _He's alive_ , Harry thought and nearly sighed aloud. _Alive and awake_.

"What did you do with Fil—Professor Flitwick?" Harry demanded.

"Why, Mr Potter? Do you plan to escape and rescue him?" Nott had not bothered to turn as he spoke. He busied himself with something on the table, nearly ignoring his captives. Malfoy's head rose and he looked straight at Harry.

"I just… want to know," Harry said, trying to remember that he was supposed to be Albus. His strength was slowly returning, not that it mattered much while he was chained to a post. "Have you killed him?"

Nott chuckled and it was not a pleasant sound. "You must think I am some sort of monster, boy. What has your father told you about me?"

"Only that you lost your own son," Harry said quietly.

Nott spun around, face twisting with rage. "I did not _lose_ my son! My Theo was _taken_ from me! Taken by _your father_!"

Harry glanced at Malfoy, who shook his head minutely. Malfoy certainly knew Nott better than he did. Malfoy asked, "What do you plan to do with us?"

Nott's head swivelled to fix his stare on Malfoy. "Do? My, you do look like Lucius in his younger days. Draco always favoured Narcissa, but you…" Nott walked forward and took Malfoy's chin in his hand, not gently. Malfoy tried to yank his head away, but Nott only squeezed until white circles appeared beneath his fingers. "Is the same madness lurking inside you, Scorpius? Will you begin to howl with rage when I slice your Potter open? Terrible choice of mate, by the way. But no matter, you won't live long enough to truly regret your decisions."

With that, he released Malfoy, whose glare of pure fury followed him. Malfoy worked his jaw and then asked, "So, you plan to kill us? Isn't that a bit pedantic as far as revenge goes?"

Nott shook his head and turned back to his table with a sigh. "One thing I always hated about Malfoys. They think they are so much better than everyone else. A sodding child calling me pedantic. Thank you, Mr Malfoy, you have made this quite a lot easier."

Harry threw Malfoy a disbelieving look, which was returned with a jut of Malfoy's chin that clearly asked if Harry had any better ideas.

"How do you plan to um… do it?" Harry asked, working his hands against the metal shackles. They were quite tight, allowing almost no slack.

"It's quite simple, Mr Potter. I plan to torture you both to death and then send the memory to your father for him to view over and over and over, suffering the while. I assume he will share with Draco, dear Scorpius, so do not feel left out."

Harry shrank back, horrified. The thought of someone actually doing such a thing to Albus made him want to hide his children away from the world. Evidently Malfoy felt the same. "You sick fuck!" Malfoy cried.

Nott chuckled without turning around. "Lost all your big words already, Scorpius? What a pity. There, nearly all ready now. Wait; one more thing. We don't need any company for this, do we? No one will hear your screams from this building. We are far from any settlement and I have taken the precaution of draping the place with Silencing Spells. The Vanishing Cabinet, however…" Nott strode over to the cabinet and cast _Confringo_ ; the piece of furniture exploded into thousands of bits.

"How did you get it into the school?" Harry asked, beginning to feel anxious now that their peril was clear. He needed to retrieve his wand somehow. He doubted a wandless _Accio_ would tear it from Nott's robes and send it winging to his hand.

"That was the height of simplicity, Albus. I dismantled the cabinet and Transfigured each piece into yule logs for use as decorations. They were carried straight beneath the noses of the Aurors stationed at the school. Once inside the classroom, I returned each piece to its original state and put the cabinet back together. The Yule Celebration made this so easy. I should send a gift to the Planning Committee."

Nott left the smoking rubble and returned to the table. "Now, then. We need more light." With several incantations, Nott produced many more candelabras and lit them all by shooting a stream of fire from his wand. The room gleamed with warm light. "I don't want your fathers to miss a single terrible detail." Nott's weathered face shone with determined satisfaction. Harry swallowed, having no idea how to dissuade him. At least Albus and Scorpius were safe, but Malfoy… He looked helplessly at the man bound across from him. Malfoy managed a wan smile and Harry's heart fluttered painfully.

He hoped Malfoy wasn't expecting Harry to rescue him, because he had no idea how and their situation looked bleak.

"Time to get started," Nott said. "Who shall be first?"

"Let Scorpius go," Harry said. "It's my father who let your son die. You should punish him. Malfoy didn't do anything."

"You are correct. Draco Malfoy didn't do anything. He didn't do _anything_ to see that my son's murderer received his just reward! I trusted him to see Potter punished and he did _nothing_!"

"It was a proper trial," Malfoy snapped. "Theo's death was an accident and all the evidence proved it. Your attempt to shift the blame to Potter and deny culpability for placing your own child in danger is pathetic!"

Harry winced. Malfoy sounded far more like himself than Scorpius.

Nott snarled. "Back to using large words again, Malfoy? Very well, we will start on you." A slashing spell lashed out at Malfoy despite Harry's shout of denial. Several more followed. After a moment, Malfoy's shirt hung about him in strips. Another spell caused the pieces to fall to the floor. Amazingly, Malfoy's skin was unmarked.

"Where shall we begin?" Nott asked, walking around Malfoy while tapping his wand against his hand.

When he was closest to Harry on his circuit, Harry yelled, " _Accio wand_!"

Nott gasped when the wand in his hand shivered and nearly jolted free. Nott tightened his grip with a baleful glare, but at least his attention had been diverted from Malfoy. "Albus Potter. I see you have a measure of your father's power. Too bad it cannot be harnessed." Nott paused and then an unpleasant smile split his face. "Or can it?"

Nott walked over to stand in front of Harry. He lifted his wand to hover before Harry's forehead and then said clearly, " _Imperio_."

Harry felt peace wash over him in a way that he hadn't felt in years. The Imperius Curse was used in Auror Training, but very seldom. Harry's worries and cares melted away, replaced by a blissful feeling of emptiness. He remembered being upset a moment previous, but it no longer seemed important.

Nott cast a spell that opened Harry's manacles. Harry lowered his hands and rubbed at them absently. Nott backed away quickly, seeming wary. Harry watched him curiously.

"Go to the table," Nott ordered. It seemed reasonable, so Harry walked that way, shuffling slowly, until he reached the table. Several items had been placed upon it and he perused them without interest.

"Pick up the knife."

A jagged-edged knife with a bone handle rested near a long, thin metal rod. Harry reached down and lifted it. The handle was cool against his palm.

"Good. Now walk to Scorpius Malfoy."

Harry frowned. He could not quite remember where Scorpius was… oh yes. Grimmauld Place. But how to walk there?

"Walk to Malfoy!" Nott snapped.

Harry's gaze shot to Malfoy, chained against a post. The sight was… stirring. Harry took several steps until he stood before Malfoy. He might have gazed at him with more fondness than was warranted, but in his current relaxed state, it seemed only natural. Harry smiled.

"Now. Cut him." Nott's voice was harsh, driving through Harry's peaceful state and causing him to lift the knife. "Cut his pretty face until you can't recognize it."

Harry's hand trembled on the knife. Cut Malfoy? _Why would I want to do that?_ Part of him wondered. Malfoy was far too beautiful to mar.

"Cut. Him," Nott insisted. Harry's hand rose until the tip of the knife rested against Malfoy's cheek.

"Potter," Malfoy whispered. "Fight it. I know you can resist it. It was the talk of the school in our fourth year."

 _Cut him cut him cut him cut him_. The words seemed to hammer in his brain, smashing at his defences. The tip of the knife jerked, raking a line across Malfoy's pale cheek that quickly gleamed red.

Nott laughed. "Very good. Again."

"Harry, please," Malfoy murmured.

The knife began to shake. Harry wanted to obey. He wanted so badly to give in to the insistent voice and make it stop, to let the peace return. It was so nice not having to think. So nice not having to worry and fret and wonder—

"Again." The word was insistent.

"No," Harry said. His entire arm shook and he pulled it away from Malfoy's face with a jerk. Blood gathered at the edge of the gash and a single drop broke free to trickle down Malfoy's face. Harry felt a moment of pure horror that buried the feelings provided by the Imperius. He stepped back one full pace. "No, I don't think I will."

Then he turned and flung the knife at Nott.

Which bounced off his shoulder and fell to the floor. Knife throwing was harder than it looked. They stared at each other in surprise for a moment and Malfoy's "Oh, honestly" reached Harry's ears just before Nott raised his wand again.

" _Imperio_!" he snarled.

The force of it stopped Harry in his tracks, but only for an instant. This time he shook off the languorous sensation and dove forward, knocking Nott into the table. Several metal objects rattled and one of the candelabrums fell over. A pool of wax ignited and burned merrily, spreading along the floor towards the wall.

Harry's hand closed around the wand and they wrestled for it. Nott's other hand clawed at Harry's hair, probably seeking his ear or eye. Harry shoved with his shoulder and the table moved again, skidding across the wooden floor. Nott went down with Harry atop him and finally the wand wrenched free.

Nott's nails scratched over Harry's cheek and his hand freed of the wand thumped Harry's temple as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Flames crackled loudly—apparently the wall had caught fire. Harry ignored Nott's flailing and transferred the wand to his right hand before snarling, " _Stupefy_!"

Nott went limp and Harry quickly searched his robes for his own wand. Quickly because flames had begun to lick across the floor from the fallen candles. Both his and Malfoy's wands were in a pocket of Nott's robes. Apparently he had simply tucked them away without examining them.

"Nicely done, Potter," Malfoy said in a dry tone. "Do you think you might deal with the fire so we don't burn to death?"

"You're so high maintenance," Harry complained, as he got to his feet and doused the flames with a spray of water. The smoke in the air mingled with steam. With that task completed, Harry cast several Binding Charms on Nott. The bloody bastard would not be getting free this time.

When he finished, Malfoy asked, "Are you planning to free me any time soon?"

Harry grinned and finally walked over to Malfoy. "I sort of like you like this," he admitted, but then his gaze softened when he met the drying blood on Malfoy's cheek.

"Never pictured you as the kinky sort, Potter."

Harry healed the gash on Malfoy's cheek and then washed away the blood with a scrap of Malfoy's fallen shirt and some water. And then he kissed Malfoy, absently releasing his bonds halfway through the kiss. Only halfway, because Malfoy's arms went around him and they remained in the smoky, candlelit room, snogging until Nott began to stir.

xx*x*xx

Draco entered the room with Scorpius, who beamed with pride at Draco's reaction. The Great Hall looked spectacular with gigantic crystalline snowflakes that glistened and spun as they fell, mimicking snowfall in slow motion before disappearing just above the heads of the attendees.

Above the glittering flakes, the glass ceiling revealed the star-filled night sky; a scene that was not magicked, for once, because the cold, clear night was actually that beautiful.

"Your doing?" Draco asked, motioning towards the snowflakes.

Scorpius nodded. "Those and the wall sconces."

Draco's gaze flitted to the multicoloured lights seemingly trapped in ice that lined the walls. Each one cycled through the colour spectrum, bringing a festive glow to the edges of the room. Added to the light from the gigantic Christmas tree, it made the holiday cheer practically palpable.

"There's Al and his dad!" Scorpius raised a hand in a wave before bounding forward to wrap Albus in a friendly embrace. Draco followed more slowly, since Potter was occupied chatting with Professor Kinder. Then Potter turned and his eyes widened before dropping to Draco's feet and making a slow, thorough progression upward. Draco felt himself blushing at Potter's far-too-obvious approval.

Potter stepped closer. "Malfoy," he said with a grin.

"Potter," Draco replied with a warning tone.

"You look... nice." Potter smirked and Draco wondered how many inappropriate adjectives he had rejected before settling on the most innocuous.

"So do you, for once," Draco admitted. In actuality, Potter looked stunning. His hair had been relatively tamed and he wore elegant dress robes in such a dark shade of red they appeared black except in certain light. His lace cravat was understated and he wore white gloves. Draco noticed the last as they reached out to touch the lapel of Draco's silver-grey robe.

Potter leaned even closer to whisper in Draco's ear. "You look positively edible. Any chance we can leave this party early?"

"You are the belle of the ball, Potter," Draco replied and stepped away to try and curtail the quickening of his pulse. "You tell me." He gave Potter a warning stare, because Scorpius was already giving them a speculative stare. The boy missed nothing. His blond head bent towards Albus and they whispered together. Draco nearly groaned aloud when Albus Potter's green eyes snapped towards them with sudden interest.

"I would leave right now if I could," Potter said, eyes still not leaving Draco.

Draco cleared his throat. He needed to escape Potter and his obvious insanity. "I believe I see the Headmistress and Flitwick. I will see you later, Potter."

Potter only smiled and watched him go. Draco shook his head and wondered why he had even come to this event. It had only been two weeks since they had last walked the halls of Hogwarts. Alcott Nott was safely locked away in Azkaban. The boys were back in school—or they had been prior to leaving school for the holidays. Draco and Potter had returned to work and everything was the way it had been before.

Everything except for Draco's nocturnal visits to Potter's flat, at any rate. Potter's Floo was becoming as familiar as Draco's own. He knew it was madness, but he couldn't seem to stay away. Four days previous, they had nearly been caught by Ron Weasley, who had popped into Potter's place unannounced. Potter had scrambled into pyjama bottoms and rushed out to greet him, leaving Draco to twiddle his thumbs in Potter's bed and wait for him to get rid of the prat.

And Potter was becoming more and more open about it, hinting that he didn't care who knew. Really, it was maddening.

Of course, he was rather proud of the enhanced wards around Hogwarts. The Eros Effect had been proven reliable at enhancing magic. Several clandestine erotic encounters near each wardstone, followed by joint spell casting, had strengthened the wards back to what Draco thought might rival the Founders' days.

A nudge at his elbow made Draco glance over to see Scorpius giving him a sly smirk. "So." The tiny word was pregnant with innuendo. "You and Mr Potter."

Draco gave him a quelling look, but did not bother to deny it. Scorpius had a wretched habit of always knowing when he was lying. Draco could swear the boy was a natural Legilimens. Unfortunately, the lack of protest was answer enough for his son, whose eyes widened and he gasped. "Father!"

Draco coughed and quickened his footsteps, eager to reach the relative safety of Minerva McGonagall. "We will discuss this later," Draco said. By _later_ , of course, he meant never in a thousand years.

"Draco Malfoy!" Flitwick called happily and Draco was spared further uncomfortable talk of Harry Potter. Even so, he could not seem to stop his eyes from following Potter as he wandered around the room, looking confident and polished. _And utterly delectable_ , Draco admitted to himself.

xx*x*xx

Harry watched as Malfoy evaded his son and stopped to chat with Minerva and Filius. Professor Flitwick had been found in the house where Harry had fought Alcott Nott, hungry, dehydrated, and slightly the worse for wear, but alive.

The house had been part of an abandoned castle on the outskirts of Derbyshire. Once they had exited and determined their bearings, it had been relatively easy to Apparate to London with Nott in tow. Malfoy had taken Flitwick back to Hogwarts. They had barely spoken for two days after that. Harry had been busy with paperwork and happy, tearful reunions with Lily and James.

Albus and Scorpius had left Grimmauld Place after coercing Harry into allowing them to move into it upon leaving Hogwarts. They had apparently grown fond of the old place during their enforced holiday. Harry preferred not to know the details.

Harry had mentioned the missing Marauder's Map to Albus, only to receive a cheeky grin and Albus commenting, "Hugo nicks the Map all the time. I just go take it back from his room in Gryffindor Tower when I need it. You should have just asked me where he kept it."

Harry had only shaken his head, since it all turned out well in the end. _Mostly well_ , he thought now, watching Malfoy smile at something Flitwick said. Harry almost sighed aloud at the sight; he lived for that smile. He bit his lip, aware that he was ridiculously smitten with Malfoy and rapidly convincing himself that he didn't care who knew.

"Hey, dad," Albus said.

Harry dragged his eyes away from the silver-clad blond and grinned at Albus. "Having a good time?" Harry asked.

"I'm having a good time watching you ogle Mr Malfoy," Albus said and then laughed at Harry's expression. Albus shook his head. "Don't try to deny it. I've been there. I know the look."

Harry groaned and took Albus' elbow to lead him away from a Ministry official who gave Harry a friendly wave. When they were out of earshot, Harry asked, "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me, I'm sure. Well, and Scorpius, since he's the one pointed it out to me. I am a bit shocked, though. Did it happen when you guys were pretending to be us?"

Harry nodded and resisted pulling at his hair, although he did reach out and snare a glass of champagne when a silver tray of bubbling glasses floated past. He took a gulp and then said, "It was unexpected."

"Isn't it always?" Albus asked sagely.

"I don't know how he feels," Harry said, feeling a bit awkward talking about his gay love affair with his own son.

"Yeah, men don't exactly chat about their feelings. It took me three years to admit to Scorpius that I even liked him _that way_." Albus shook his head. "Such a waste. But unless you say something, neither of you will know, right?"

Harry gave him a serious look. "You don't mind this? I mean… I hoped you might accept it, but what do you think James or Lily…? Oh god, this is just a terrible idea. I should call this whole thing off and stop seeing him."

"Do you want to?" Albus asked in a soft tone.

Harry twisted the empty glass in his hands and shook his head. "No. I really like him. And not just… physically." Harry spoke quickly to cover the awkwardness of that admission. "I mean, he's really smart and clever and funny and… I never knew that."

Albus clapped him roughly on the shoulder. "Then go get him, Dad. The rest will sort itself. I don't know what James or Lily will say, but this isn't about them. It's about you. I know they want you to be happy and it's been really horrible seeing you all alone the past few years…" Albus broke off, as though he had revealed too much. "Anyway, it's up to you, but if Mr Malfoy is anything like Scorpius," Albus shook his head and laughed, "You'll have an interesting time ahead of you."

"Interesting. Yeah," Harry said wryly and set the glass on another passing tray. He straightened his shoulders and nodded. "Thanks, Albus. It's strange taking advice from your own offspring, but… thanks."

"Anytime, Dad. And good luck."

Harry nodded and started through the crowd. He was going to need it.

xx*x*xx

Draco's wrist burned. His minor jerk of surprise would have spilled his glass of Firewhisky if he hadn't drained it completely moments before. He gave the glass to a student dressed as a waiter and then shook back his cuff to look at the silver bracelet.

Sometimes he still wondered why they hadn't taken them off.

 _Gazebo_ was all it said. Draco looked towards the only failure in decoration, and one that Scorpius had assured him was not his fault. The gazebo sat in a corner nearest the front doors, covered in snow and festooned with even more holiday glitz than had adorned it in the Charms classroom. Red and white birds fluttered around it in a twittering flock, landing in the icy branches of a holly bush.

Draco knew he shouldn't, but he found himself walking towards the structure anyway, bypassing friends and acquaintances with an absent word or two.

Potter stood alone in the interior, leaning with both hands on the railing and looking out over the crowd. Draco joined him and his eyes quickly picked out Scorpius, who was seated next to Albus amid a group of younger people. Teddy Lupin's purple hair was visible in the cluster. Albus' arm was draped over Scorpius shoulders. They both looked immensely happy.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Potter asked. Draco was spared an answer when Potter's hand dropped atop his and their fingers threaded together. Seemingly encouraged, Potter tugged him backward, towards the centre of the gazebo.

Draco looked up to find the mistletoe still in place. "This didn't work out very well for us last time," he commented.

"No evil spells this time," Potter said with a grin, still holding Draco's hand. "I checked." He twirled his wand in his other hand… and dropped it. He stooped to retrieve it and then gave Draco a sheepish grin.

"You're completely hopeless," Draco said.

"But you like me, anyway," Potter replied, tucking his wand away into the dark folds of his robe.

"I suppose," Draco admitted, knowing he must be infected with some sort of madness to be standing with Harry Potter, here, with a crowd of people and reporters just beyond the open walls of the wooden structure.

Potter pulled him closer, the look in his eyes intense, as usual, snaring Draco more than the hold on his hand. Their breath mingled and Draco smelled champagne, although Potter wasn't drunk, he couldn't be after the single glass of Draco had watched him drink. Draco felt slightly tipsy, despite only one glass of Firewhisky.

"We don't have to do this, if you're not sure," Potter said and his grip tightened on Draco's hand. Always the Gryffindor.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Draco said dryly and then their lips met. No spell caught Draco this time, only the warm eagerness of Potter's mouth and the feel of his arm slipping around Draco's waist. The kiss deepened and Draco knew there were spells other than those cast by a wand, and magic bigger than that contained in an incantation. For the first time he felt lost in such magic, and possibly found, as well.

When the first shocked gasp reached Draco's ears, he simply pushed his hand into Potter's hair and pulled him closer.

Despite the drama that no doubt awaited them, Draco knew everything would work out in the end. He was with Harry Potter, after all.

~END~

Author's Note: This fic annoyed me from the first word because there were so many situations that popped up that required unbelievable solutions, such as getting rid of the MAP which I should have just removed from the fic completely, but I was too stubborn. The battle between Harry and Nott was supposed to be long and dramatic, full of spell casting and danger and suspense! I started writing it and realized Harry had been an Auror for TWENTY YEARS. He would not be taken down by some half-arsed wizard with a grudge. *shakes head* So if the battle seems abrupt and over too quickly... well, it was. But at least Draco is impressed. In the end, this is less of a mystery and more of a romance, which is what I usually write anyway. But hey, the next one is full of... something. We'll see. *writes more* I love you guys! :3


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